14w1d Bleeding at 13w6d weeks pregnant

Last post I wrote Monday morning, expecting to go and have my nuchal translucency scan later that afternoon. We were planning to take a short holiday trip across the island and in the course of packing became a bit late and had to rush to the scan. Turns out the day started as it meant to go on, as I had gotten the times mixed up and our appointment was not 1pm but 4pm! So that would delay our trip (5hr travel time). We went home, double checked the pack-list and grabbed all the things we had forgotten, then hopped around to my parents' place for a cup of tea and a debrief.

In the car on the way there (4pm) the ultrasound clinic called and apologised: the OB/tech (who is the best in our province, but is private = expensive = only using her for some scans) had to rush to the hospital to deal with a woman in labour. So. No way to have the scan. I started to get agitated as I knew that the scan would only be possible up to 13w6d, and although the ultrasound clinic wanted to re-schedule me for the next day we would be out of town by then. Plus Hubby sort of still didn't really want to do the scan at all. I could try and get my midwife to organise to have the scan at our holiday destination (fun). Or the clinic said they would try and swap another patient so I could get a slot on Thursday, which would be the last day I could have the scan by my count - going from the date of conception. Or we could just not do the scan and only do more blood tests later in trimester 2. Then the receptionist was telling me I had my dates all wrong and I was actually not that far along and I could possibly wait even further. She wasn't really listening to me, just telling me I had it all wrong. Not helpful! I know the date of conception down to the hour for crying out loud!

So, with that, we started out trip and I tried to put if out of my mind. We were only really away for a day, but managed to get in some mountain biking and sailing. Both of which freaked me out. The mountain biking was supposed to be a gentle, flat ride along the banks of a beautiful river. Well, it turned out to be a thin gravel track that went UP and DOWN. I have never ridden that sort of track before and couldn't really control my bike well on the multiple down-hill segments with the gravel skidding my bike out from under me. Long story short I had a panic attack as I thought I was about to crash / roll over / tumble into the river. Oh, and I was having a low (hypo) at the same time! What fun! I was unable to stop from panting these really deep fast breaths and wheezing and trying not to cry and feeling sick and my arms and legs just locked up like stone on the bike. Hubby looked after me and got juice and a muesli bar into me. I recovered ok and we were able to bike back slowly. I did feel much better on the way back as I knew what to expect of the terrain, and Hubby showed me a technique with the brakes which helped me control my bike better.

The sailing was fun although at the first turn I thought we were about to tip over and squealed like a mad thing! hehe The lake was a bit choppy and it was just the pair of us on this tiny little yacht. But very cool experience. Boy did I sleep well that afternoon. We cooked a lovely BBQ at the motel that evening and had cheesecake for dessert.

The drive back the next day took a little longer as we headed up to another city to collect youngest-step-son from his friend's place, then drive us all back home. On the way back I got a bad headache that was awful by the time we got home. I managed to eat some dinner then went straight to bed with 2 paracetamol.

At 2.30am that morning (Thursday 9 Jan) the Dexcom woke me up with a noisy beepy alarm: low. I trundled out to the kitchen to get some juice, as has become my custom in the wee hours of the mornings, and took a detour to the loo first. And there it was. Bright red. Bleeding. No pain, just a feeling I can only describe as numbness, like my heart just sank. I knew that if this was going to go badly, there would be nothing anyone could do about it, and that it would hurt a lot. With no baby at the end.

Aware enough to realise that the low could be part of the problem, I drank down some juice and went back to the bedroom to wake Hubby and tell him. After about ten minutes he asked if I was still bleeding so I went back to check, and it seemed to have mostly stopped. We live 5 mins from the hospital so it would have been foolish not to pop up there and get checked out. Yay: A&E in the middle of the night; my favourite :-/

Thankfully the ER waiting room was blissfully empty and quiet. I rang the bell and the triage nurse came out. I gave her my name, how many weeks pregnant I was (13w5/6d) and the fact that I was bleeding. She took us straight through to the triage room behind the automated security doors, and asked me questions while Hubby filled out the paperwork. From my answers the triage nurse was able to determine that I had a "light bleed" but it would be worth checking anyway, and that there was not much they could do except wait in circumstances like these. She slipped a cute little pulse/ox meter on my finger and announced that at 99% oxygen saturation that was a good sign.

The triage nurse took me around the corridor to a private room and a cheerful ER nurse arrived. She was really sweet and gave me "points" for knowing what my blood type was! She took my blood pressure, temperature and pulse and they all came back normal. Next in came the doctor who asked similar questions: when did it start? (2.30am) how many pads? (none!) do you have any pain? (just some mild pressure and ache as I normally have had that I associate as being normal for me being pregnant. Is this your first pregnancy? yes. Any allergies? (no) etc.

Both the doctor and the nurse agreed that the low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) could have maybe had something to do with the bleed, but it could also have to do with the mountain biking or exhaustion. They listed it as a threatened miscarriage and explained gently that the only thing they could do is check for the heartbeat with ultrasound (a strong and healthy heartbeat was present immediately! The most wonderful news in the world!) and do an internal exam to gauge the blood loss and possible cause. They took a urine sample and tested for signs of infection but everything came back negative. Swabs were taken although the results of those won't be available until next week at my GP's office. So in all, it seemed mild, although they noted that it could progress further. They told me to take it very easy for the next four days, and were happy that I had the NT ultrasound that afternoon. We were sent home and I didn't sleep very much for the rest of the night worrying about every little twinge and ache I felt. I was rolling over very carefully!

In the morning I felt fine. Hubby went to work and I tried to do as little as possible. Mainly this consisted of calling all my healthcare providers to get their advice:

First up, the midwife: she listened carefully and asked me more questions. She promised to contact the on-call specialist at the hospital for more advice, but she advised me to get in touch with my diabetes nurse to adjust the pump settings as she suspected the low blood sugar of being a potential cause.

Diabetes nurse: I got her on the phone the second try (a miracle! It sometimes takes days to get through to her as she is soooo busy with patients). She spoke to me for a good 20 mins and we made adjustments to the basal rates of my midnight to 6am rates. In the two days since, I have lowered these rates even further and I am very close to having a night sans-hypos! Yipee!

Midwife again: she called back and advised that the Charge Midwife at the hospital had advised more frequent monitoring (I think that means Doppler?) and I should come in on Sunday (tomorrow) to the Labour and Delivery ward where my midwife was having a clinic. So that will be an experience. I certainly didn't expect to be going there this soon. Oh, and I also have an appointment booked with the hospital OB. Finally.

Later in the day, we went to the ultrasound clinic for the NT ultrasound scan. I told the OB what had happened the night previously and she immediately got to work looking for the baby and any potential problems. She found the baby straight away (it's hard to miss now. I even have a mini-bump!) and found the probable cause of the bleed too: I have a low-lying placenta. It's completely covering the "exit" and she told us that it could easily be disturbed or aggravated by sudden jostling movements. Such as bike riding. Boo. I love bike riding! She went on to say that at 13 weeks it was too early to diagnose placenta previa as it will most likely migrate up higher, however I should have it checked at 20 weeks to make sure.

Knowing what had caused the bleed was such a huge relief, although the OB did say that I can expect more bleeds which freaks me out a bit. I have been being very careful with my movements since then, but I am still active.

Then the checks for the baby began: she did the NT measurement three times throughout the 20 min scan just to triple check, and each time the result came back just slightly over 2mm. If the result is 2.5mm+ then that strongly indicates Down's Syndrome as the likelihood of potential heart defects causing excess fluid is much higher in that case. So, passed that one.

And then she started looking at everything else. I had only really thought to worry about the NT check, but she was looking for the correct number of arms! I hadn't thought about that! It was all fine. We saw two arms, two legs, five fingers on each hand. The spine. The CRL was 7.71cm and this put the fetus at about 13w3d (3 days slower that what I thought from the conception date). She measured the head size and looked at the brain, stomach, bladder, legs, knees, and the mouth which was swallowing. We could see the stomach filling with liquid as the scan went on! She took at few photos for us and seemed much happier and more interested this time, probably because there was so much more to see.

She checked the rest of my uterus and found a fibroid (towards the top, I think?) in the uterine muscle itself. Apparently this is of no cause for concern at the moment.

So overall it has been an absolutely exhausting week. Good news in the end, out little one is still going strong, kicking up a storm in there.

Thanks for reading this far. Here are some pics as your reward:

Our little one dancing and waving and kicking!

Here you can see the brain and the mouth, nose, and the right arm and hand.

My mini-bump. I can just get my pants done up. And those are stretch jeans too! Gone with a blue inset 30 for my Animas pump at the moment.

Slightly belated: 7w6d ultrasound

Sorry to keep you all waiting so long, my only excuse is that I have been exhausted. Like, take a nap at 3pm exhausted!

Great news: we had the "8 week" ultrasound done on Thursday 28th 2013 when I was 7w6d.

Here is a piccy:

The size of a raspberry? Kidney bean?

If you need help deciphering the picture, the line between the two little white crosses is the crown to rump length CRL 1.29cm, and the head is down with bum up. The left curve is the back, and the interesting fluffy parts on the right is the umbilical cord, and perhaps arm and leg paddles? Who knows. We saw a good heartbeat of 164bpm which the OB/sonographer said was right on target. She also looked a bit bored but basically told us that everything looks right on track.

I have never been so relieved to see some flashing, pulsing pixels in my life.

Hubby filmed it on his phone, so I will try and post the video up sometime too.

When the OB checked my ovaries, she said they were still quite swollen, and even asked if I had been overstimulated. They were big and empty looking. She said they were still recovering, but I hadn't expected that to take so long. Who knew the ER would be so damaging to them?

In other news, we had another chat about the ante-natal testing, and Hubby basically came to the conclusion that I will worry like a crazy woman unless I know, and I came to the conclusion that if it was really that important to him I could live with not doing the testing. End result is that we have agreed to do the testing including blood screening test and nuchal translucency ultrasound scan. I am pretty relieved about that. It means a great deal to me that should we find anything, I can have time to prepare myself.

Symptoms? Yes. Plenty.

Sheer and all-encompassing exhaustion is the major one at the moment. I am fine (sort of) and awake one moment, and the next I am the walking dead. lol. Mostly I can get through the day, but I am taking some serious cat-naps in the weekends.

No morning sickness. And that is the way I have decided it shall stay! There has been a little bit of mild nausea, but it's actually more like what I would describe as extreme hunger. As a diabetic I don't get hungry, like ever and this is because I am and have always eaten on a regular schedule. On the rare occasions when I have experienced hunger (from illness etc) I never really recognise it as such, and it instead feels a lot like a cold, slightly nauseas feeling radiating out from my sternum/high-stomach area. It's not an "I'm about to puke" feeling, and it usually goes away with application of noms.

I am sneezing a lot at the moment, not sure if it's hayfever or just irritation from the increased blood supply to well, everywhere including my nose that's doing it. It's tolerable but if it gets much worse I will have to look and see if I can take any hayfever meds... don't like my chances though.

Peeing is my new hobby. My record at night is 3 times. And none of those was caused by a low or low alarm.

Prunes and kiwifruit are my new best friends, as are bottles of water.

My diabetes is being...predictable. Well, almost. It's not terribly stable, in that I am going low multiple times per day (and night), but the predictability comes in the timing of those lows. They tend to happen about 2hrs post meal. My DNE nurse put my I:C ratios up for all main meals a couple of weeks ago when I was still having quite a few highs. At the time I thought the increases in I:Cs were a bit late, since I could already tell that my blood sugars were dropping. And now they are tanking multiple times per day, however the insulin doesn't kick in soon enough if I take it when I start eating (I know, I know, supposed to take it earlier!) and I am still getting a noticeable rise in blood sugar after a meal. Trouble is by the time the bulk of the insulin is kicking in, the food is wearing off and that's when I go low.

When I was last on the phone to my DNE she recommended that I eat a lot MORE food and a lot more fat and protein, especially for lunch. Well, I have been trying that for a week now. I feel stuffed to the gunnels most of the time and have regained half a kilo (after losing 1.5Kg in 2 weeks which is what got her so worried). I do get more hunger feelings that I am used to, however I cannot really handle eating this quantity of food PLUS all the emergency food I am eating/drinking to get my blood sugars up when they go low.

This evening I went to the supermarket to get three things: yoghurt, strawberries, and bananas. Smoothie time. Well, I pulled into the carpark and since my Dex was still on start-up, I did a quick test. 3.8mmol so I drank a juice, ate an afghan bar and decided to wait. The Dex and Vibe then both started bleating for calibration tests, so I did those too. My brain was foggy but not so foggy that I couldn't do a quick nip into the supermarket. I had a written list and I thought I had just eaten all of my food - turns out my foggy brain had completely forgotten about the pack of jelly beans in the globe box, as well as doing anything sensible like phoning Hubby. Sigh. My brain just gets super fixated on a single thing, in this case I knew that the supermarket had food, and I knew I needed sugar, so that's where I went.

Got a trolley to hang on to instead of just a basket, and started working my way slowly through the shop to get the items on the list. Note to self: do not shop while low. What should have been a $15 trip cost $90!!!! All manner of tasty treats found their way into my trolley! Whoops! Just before I got to the checkout, I started to panic a bit as the low symptoms were coming on really strongly. I must have been looking rather pale as several shelf-packers gave me weird looks. I headed to the drink aisle to get something sweet and fast. Ended up grabbing a bottle of lucozade which is 68g of carbs in a bottle, but no caffeine - I checked.

At the checkout, the woman in the queue in front of me was taking forever. Then she decided to pay using a credit card that wouldn't scan. The receipt finally printed and the checkout-chick tried to fold it up, got is scrumpled up, tried again, and again; there was lots of smiling and laughing amongst them while I contemplated breaking all the social conventions of supermarket shopping by ripping into the lucozade before actually buying it. I had my eftpos card out and ready. I was standing with both feet flat, the trolley wedged against the counter so that I could lean on it. Even in my hazy mind I knew that 3 point support wouldn't tip over! Finally I got my groceries scanned, paid for and bagged, and headed out to the car. Got things loaded in ok, all while the world wooshed and fuzzed around me. A bit of a mix between extreme tiredness and hyper-sensitivity to lights and colours. My brain slows right down and I must carefully check every thought to ensure that what I am doing is correct, will use the least energy until I can get more glucose in me, and will not be liable to draw unwanted attention to me. I am quite good at this (I think) so managed to do a moderate sized grocery shop on a blood sugar of about 3mmol (and it was still dropping at one point, with Dex alarms blaring!) all while no one around me was any the wiser.

Got that lucozade in me, waited, tested and as soon as my brain felt ok, and the test was over 5mmol I drove home.

Hoping to get my DNE nurse on the phone early this week to see what she suggests to sort this out. And eating more is not practical!!! I just do not have room!

Only a could of weeks of work left and then I will be on Christmas holidays. Yay!

Thank you to everyone who wrote comments on my last post with advice and support. I really appreciate you help :D

Truly random shopping

The best way to ensure you get an exciting range of groceries when you go to the supermarket is to.....




....yes?




.....of course! Have a hypo! Why didn't I think of that?!

Last night I was super-tired from a really long hard week, but we had the step-kids to stay for the week so we had run out of groceries. I still don't believe how much 3 teens eat!

Anyway, so I drove to the supermarket at about 8.00pm, got a trolley, and wheeled through the fruit'n'vege section picking bananas and mixed nuts. Slightly random, but nothing to be too worried about.

By the time I got to the cereal and juice aisle, I was yawning so much people were looking at me. Like, huge, uncontrollable, too-big-for-my-mouth yawns. I was feeling cold, and my eyesight was getting a little flickery.

Next aisle: pasta, rice, sauces, soups. Something is feeling very wrong. I am gripping the trolley quite tightly, and driving very carefully. The supermarket staff are re-stacking the shelves. There are boxes to drive around. For some reason, this is getting very difficult. It takes all my brain power to appear "normal".

Closing in on the chicken soup, I tell myself "my vision is flickering: something is wrong. DO A TEST YOU IDIOT!!!!" So I stopped and tested right there in the aisle.

2.3 mmol/L

OK, you will have some food in your purse. Dig in and find it. One lonely fruitbar = 15g.

Drive trolley until a shelf-stacker can see you pull the bar out of your purse, and not steal it off the shelf (silly, the things my brain devotes power to in an emergency situation!). Rip plastic wrapper off bar, stuff into face. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. Strange looks from the small asian woman with too much makeup just to be stacking the tinned tomatoes.

Complete another two aisles. Choose things that I think are appropriate. Things I think we need. Realise that a single fruit bar is not enough to combat a 2.3. Start to crave juice. Walk the trolley back to the juice aisle. Make the conscious decision to get juice, then get out.

Get a multi-pack of juice boxes. Gripping the trolley quite tightly now. Must look like a ghost, as the check-out chick asks me if I am ok. Hold on. Wait until it's paid for. Wait until you're outside (stupid brain with low-logic!). Add several chocolate bars from the impulse-purchase shelves at the checkout. By some miracle, I was able to remember my pin number once I had swiped the card, and complete the transaction. Whew.

Concentrate on getting out to the car. I have no memory of putting the groceries into the car, or taking the trolley back. I do remember telling myself: "don't start the car. Don't start the car. Eat the food. Sit there and eat the food and WAIT." Do you know how hard that is? When all you want to do is get home as fast as possible? Away from these people who all seem to be staring at you? It's dark, the carpark is suddenly a very scary place. I cram chocolate bars into my mouth and sit, waiting, for 10 mins to go past.

I get home OK. Uneventful. Drag bags of groceries inside. Hubby immediately sees something is up. Apparently I look really pale. My legs ache. I take a 15 min nap, then a really hot bath to get rid of the leg aches. A Friday night I hope to forget.

*p.s. had to go back this Saturday morning to get the rest of the things I'd forgotten! haha :P

I tried so hard, but my BG just wouldn't behave!

Ok so today was always going to be stressful and unpredictable: it was the first day of semester, welcoming students and the start of orientation week.

I woke up an hour early to make sure I had time to get dressed and looking presentable, make a tasty packed lunch (smoked warehou fish, green grapes, one plain slice of dark rye bread) and get to work in time to get a good spot at the welcome ceremony. (more on this later).

I was put in a foul mood by having a hypo in the night, and finding that I was sky high in the morning. I though I only ate a tiny bit of emergency food. Perhaps I should have just waited it out?

The commute to work usually takes me 7 mins. Today it was an unholy 28 minutes. I swore. A lot. I was late for the welcoming ceremony...

Here in NZ it's called a powhiri, and it's usually a very touching and moving event, one that makes you feel special to be a part of it. It's led by the Maori elders and the people attending split into two sides: those being welcomed (students) and those doing the welcoming (tutors and faculty staff). There is speech-making in both Te Reo and English, and karakia (songs) are sung by both sides. It's all about ensuring the proper spiritual protocols are followed, and when it goes according to plan it's beautiful. The students get welcomed onto the sacred learning space :)

Well. Nothing was technically wrong with the ceremony but four people fainted and had to be taken away by the first-aiders due to the heat! At 8.30am!!

Stress put me even higher, hitting 19mmol/L directly after the ceremony. And I had been clutching a fruitbar in my sweaty palm - just in case I went low!! Lol better to be safe...

I bolused twice during the morning, and only came back below 10 in the mid afternoon. Thankfully I had no classes to teach today, so it was just lesson planning and office work.


We had a special welcome for the art department students, and it was good to see all their bright nervous faces!

I then had to wait around for my teacher training class (in which I'm a student) which started late afternoon and ran right over dinnertime. D'oh! Luckily hubby had cooked me a tasty dinner when I finally got home.

Felt like I had the day of disaster blood sugars licked.

We popped round to see hubby's parents after dinner, cue tea and biscuits :) nom!

I had a shower, and I find showers either make me high or low afterwards, nor sure why, the heat maybe? Well, I scored a 24.9mmol/L

W.T.F!?

Oh. Yeah. That's right, you're supposed to take insulin with your dinner! Dumbass! Oh what a waste of all that work!

So now it's nearly midnite and I'm sitting up, testing every half hour to check I'm in fact coming down, and not going low. I'm exhausted, just want to go to sleep. Thought I would blog and let you know that you're all helping me stay awake and get my BGs back on track. Pat on your back :D

P.S. Please please please let my BGs behave tomorrow for my first class teaching of the year!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

You know that I wasn't feeling too flash on Monday, but yesterday was far, far worse.

I knew that the clinic manager from the Hamilton branch of Fertility Associates (FA) was going to email me after she had reviewed our case, so I decided not to check my email until lunchtime. This meant that I could go home and have lunch and read the email in peace and privacy.

Trouble was, it hadn't arrived by lunchtime. The suspense was killing me - oh the nerves!

But what had arrived in my inbox instead was a hope-inducing email from my diabetes endocrinologist.

To give you a synopsis, he offered to: edit the letter I sent to the MP and make it more powerful, write a second letter of support for our case, perhaps phone FA directly, and you gotta love this:

"If the are misusing the CPAC for then I have an ethical obligation to challenge them, and they have to explain. Doctor's rules."

He also suggested putting a complaint to the DHB (District Health Board), the Minister of Health, the Human Rights Commission, the Women's Rights Commission, and the Health and Disability Commissioner (The HDC, which I've already contacted).

"...raise as big a stink as you possibly can. The only thing that influences politicians and government bureaucrats is fear of public exposure."

And lastly he mentioned going to the women's magazines and current affairs mags, which I have thought of, in fact, if I did go public with my story to somewhere like women's day, perhaps the money I get could pay for fertility treatment. ha! (not sure if I'm ready to go uber-public like that yet - it doesn't just affect me and hubby then, it's all our family, the kids, coworkers, employers etc).

"It seems to me that FA (with a near total monopoly for the entire country) are not using the CPAC form honestly - probably to make more private profit. THis is what private medicine does - all the time, [it] doesn't even need to be investigated. It does need to be pointed out to the responsible officials however...it disgusts me to see [people using illness to make money], instead of using money to treat illness."

So that was pretty darn awesome to find this email yesterday. It changed my whole mood and stopped the insatiable anxiety from totally consuming me.

Unfortunately, the afternoon got pretty crappy.

At work (at the local college where I lecture) we are busy preparing for the start of the teaching year. We had a big meeting with our newly formed faculty and new Head of Faculty. Very formal. At about an hour into the meeting, my lips started feeling weird. It took a few minutes to click that I was going low :( but I was too low to get myself up, out from between the hundred-odd tightly packed chairs, and out the door with any grace, let alone up the four flights of outdoor stairs and along the 3 corridors to my office, through the security door, and to the juice in my purse. No. I know it's stupid, but when I go low, I never want to cause a scene, especially not in front of my new coworkers, boss, HoF, and Faculty members!

I waited until the end of the meeting, and then just got up and surged out the door and up the stairs in the flow of people. I don't remember most of the meeting - people were talking about it today and it was like remembering a dream - and as I walked zombie-like back to my office another tutor was talking to me but I couldn't hear him. Loss of hearing is an advanced symptom of mine, even worse than tingly numb lips. So I knew this was a bad one.

Luckily, by divine intervention, I got back to my office ok, and unnoticed I hope. Into 2x packs of juice with a meusil bar chaser, and a test reveals that I've come back UP to 2.2mmol/L

I was stunned and useless for the next 30 mins. Luckily everyone was packing up to go home, so I pretended to work/surf the web, and it just looked like I was being virtuous and working late. Not waiting for "normal" vision to return so I could drive home.

I check the email before leaving work. The email from Fertility Associates was there. I didn't read it...

...until I got home.

Dear [Kaitake]

Thank you for your phone call yesterday, and for conveying your concerns regarding CPAC scoring for publicly funded treatment.

 From reviewing your records I understand that [hubby] had a vasectomy 7 years ago.   As you know, the duration of infertility is one of the eligibility criteria for publicly funded scoring.  After sterilisation (vasectomy), duration is measured from the time that the couple approached a health professional asking for help to become pregnant.  You reported to Dr R that you first approached your GP in 2009 to enquire about conception options.  Accordingly, Dr R advised that in September 2012 you will count 3 years of duration (from 2009), which will give you the minimum required score on this criteria to be eligible to enrol for publicly funded treatment.

If our records do not accurately reflect the date you first consulted a Doctor on fertility options, please send us the record / evidence of consultation and we will amend your scoring accordingly.

I hope this information is helpful.  Please do not hesitate to contact me for further information or assistance.

Kind regards,

Clinic Manager

Bah. This sucks big time :(

And so the fight continues... wish me luck! Any ideas you have too :)

What's the worst thing a low has forced you to do?

I am curious, because I had a low today and I was so desperate (2.3mmol/L, 41.1mg/dL) that I stole someone else's orange juice.

OK, so had the person been present, I would have asked. But they weren't, and I took without asking (probably without being able to ask, if I am honest! I could sort of think clearly, but I couldn't talk properly).

It's the last week before the office shuts down for Christmas break, and one of my colleagues brought in this neat toy:

Xbox Kinect. I played soccer, and boxing. TKO!

We have a video lab at the training institute where I work (art dept), so it was hooked up to a large projector in a darkened studio. Very cool. Before I knew it I had spent half an hour punching and kicking and victory-dancing my blood sugar from 16 down to 2.3. That is a very quick drop.

I looked in my bag: no juice boxes, no muesli or fruit bars. Nothing in the secret draw of emergency food either. Dumb. So I toddle down to the communal kitchenette that the whole top floor uses. I knew there was at least white sugar there. So I start making a cup of tea with about 10 teaspoons of sugar in it. Waiting for the jug to boil. Waiting, waiting, can't wait - need sugar NOW!

I look in the fridge - oh, there is juice! Two big 4L bottles, although one of them looks like it has been there since the beginning of time. Orange juice isn't supposed to be green, is it? :P

So I drank the non-green juice. And I am glad I did, and I would do it again if I needed to. It tasted awful. I hate orange juice! After a few minutes the jug had boiled and my brew was so sweet the spoon *almost* stood up by itself in the cup :P haha. Another 10 minutes and my blood sugar had slowly climbed to 3.3mmol/L. Talk about a close call.

Maybe I should write a note and stick it on the bottle, thanking the person and offering them a new bottle of juice.

What's the worst thing you've had to do to get sugar when you've been low/hypo?

Photos of my hands - after 8 cannula attempts

I asked Hubby to take a couple of photos of my hands... they are damn sore after all the IV cannulas the nurses and anaesthetist tried to put in when I was going low. I was in pre-op, before surgery, and of course that meant I hadn't eaten for about 7+ hours. So when I went low, I couldn't eat as that would cancel the surgery, so they had to rush to put an IV in. But my veins collapsed, with low blood pressure, low blood glucose, lots of stress, lots of bleeding!

This photo was taken 5 days after my operation.

My right hand is the sorest. Photo 6 days after op. The IV that I accidentally ripped out was in the upper right "quadrant"

Yes, I ripped the IV out when I went low, blacked out, and started a mini-siezure! I was given some Hirudoid cream (which I think smells vile) but it worked. I've run out now, and the bruising is really starting to show... I'm getting some "interesting" looks at work. I don't bother explaining cos it's such a long story!

My operation went well...

... or, How I ended up with puffy clown hands!

WARNING: this is a long one. Also, it has some icky bits which I don't recommend if you are not a fan of blood, needles, surgery etc. It also may not be the most wonderful piece of prose you've ever read, due to my feeling absolutely whacked, and having sore hands. You've been warned.

Today is Friday, and I've been relaxing and making feijoa relish with my Mum after my hysteroscopy operation yesterday.

Here is the story from Thursday morning...

I had to wake up at the unholy hour of 6.30am to eat my (tiny) breakfast of 1 piece of toast and cup of tea. Because my surgery was scheduled for 12.00 I was on strict instructions to limit food intake. I ate my brekky, take my normal dose of Lantus, and a smaller dose of Humalog, just 3.5u, and crawled back into bed with hubby and kitty.

Cue a rude-awakening by the painters who are doing a marvelous job of making our house look all pretty. I'm hungry. I don't normally get hungry, cos I eat pretty consistently at the same times every day. I watch my hubby as he prepares delicious looking marmite on toast for his breakfast. Oh that smells gooooood! I mix up a drink bottle of sugar water, the only carb I will be allowed to take should I go low. This follows me everywhere I go.

We go to town and do some errands, with me checking my blood sugar roughly every hour. I've never had such a stable day in all my life! I'm flatlining at about 11 mmol/L.

We get back home just in time to pack a few bits and pieces and head up to the hospital for my check-in. We walk up, cos we live that close :)

I'm first on the list as we check into the day ward, and the receptionist is bright and cheery. She tells me I have a list of people who will come to see me (like my anaesthetic team, my ob/gyn), and we are directed to a waiting area. I just have time to sit down and start doing a quick blood test when my name is called.

The nurse takes us into a little room where she takes my pulse (99 bpm), blood pressure, and checks my chart. She figures out I'm diabetic because I'm still in the middle of my blood test! Luckily, she has a bit of experience with "brittle diabetics" before, and everything she says is just what I want to hear: "You know your body and your diabetes best, so we will just follow your lead", "Hubby knows about your diabetes? Yes? Good, we will get him to stay with you.", "Yes, you can use your own test kit" :D I like this nurse :D She offers to tell all the other nurses of my situation, and then says "No, I will organise it so that I'm your nurse all day!" Yay! Someone who understands! (unlike my anaesthetist! more on that later...)

Oh yeah, and because I'm having "gynie" surgery, she asks me to take a pregnancy test. I mean, that's kinda why we're here! Getting ready for visiting a fertility clinic! haha :P

I have a shared room, but at the start it's just me. I have a gorgeous mumu of a hospital gown to change into, and lovely nurse brings me warm blankets to snuggle into. Hubby stays with me and we read crappy womens mags and wait and wait and wait. I'm testing my blood sugar about every 30 mins now. Sitting at about 8 - 9 mmol/L. Couldn't be happier with that.

I'm a bit apprehensive, but it's more the boredom of waiting. We find a half-done crossword in the back of one of the mags and get stuck into that when my South-American anaesthetist arrives to check on me. Then my ob/gyn comes by and I sign the surgical consent form. Everything is going swell. Everyone is happy. Apart from my surgery getting delayed due to an emergency cesarean, everything is going according to plan. My blood sugar is about 6.8 mmol/L when I hear my name called.

Suddenly it's all go. I meet what feels like 17 new people all at once. Everyone introduces themselves with their first name, which I immediately forget. I put on a hair-net, and get wheeled into pre-op. Hubby comes too, on special orders of lovely nurse.

It feels odd being wheeled about. I can walk fine. We go out the doors of day ward, though the lobby area, and into pre-op. I get put into a new cubicle, which is much more high-tech than the last one. Many more buttons on the wall behind me! There are people in the other cubicles who are in various stages of readiness for surgery.

I want to do another blood test, but a nurse grabs my left hand and begins to search for a vein to put an IV line in. Hubby is on my right, and I ask him to do my test for me. We had a little practice in the day ward. Nurse inserts the cannula. Wiggles it around a bit. "That's starting to hurt a bit" I say. Hubby can't get any blood out of my finger. I feel a bit sick. The nurse is still wiggling the cannula. The back of my hand swells with blu-ish coloured blood. "I feel sick" Hubby tries another finger. The cannula has failed. They can't get the line in. Another nurse, and my anaesthetist appear. Everyone is swarming around me. A test of 4.8 mmol/L. I'm dropping like a stone. They try my right hand. I am getting giddy and the room is starting to swim. They try vein after vein. I am going low. "Sugar!!!!" I call. And "Ow ow ow it hurts" as they put countless cannulas into the backs of my hands and wrists, trying desperately to get a line in so they can give me dextrose.

The room spins, I feel VERY sick. My head falls back. Black. The most comfortable, familiar dream. Then I fall out, fall back onto the bed. "Is it over?" No. I had blacked out, and woken with a start, I hear hubby say "I think she's having a siezure", the anaesthetist says "she can't be, she's only 4.8, that's not low enough to be seizing". I'm lower than that. At this stage I have about 5 punctures in my hands. I can't hold a finger-pricker, I can't bend my fingers, there is massive swelling and bruising.

Because I went hypo, and I was stressed, and cold, my veins just basically closed up. Each time they would get the cannula into the vein, there was no pressure to push blood into it, the vein collapsed, so the line would fail. When the cannula was pulled out, blood would suddenly gush under the skin, and puff my hand out all blue. When I awoke from my black out, hubby said I kicked out, and ripped cannula number 5 out of my right hand somehow. So at this stage, I'm still very low, just come back conscious, and still have no line in. Two more tries. One on my left hand, another on my right. There is intense pain in both hands. I think I throw up about here sometime. They don't get me a dish in time and I wear it. "Sorry, sorry" I say. I feel terrible. Absolutely awful. Like there is a buffalo sitting on my chest, and a magnetic storm in my brain, and custard and vinegar in my stomach. Hubby holds my head, he's all I see.

The anaesthetist takes a breath. Asks for a larger grade pink cannula. Puts in in my left arm, further up this time. "Protect this, wrap it up good. We can't lose this line" she orders. I am pumped full of the strongest dextrose they have. And a electrolyte/dextrose drip is installed. Cue spew. Well, I just had a hypo! Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Hubby tests me again, I'm up to 8 mmol/L in less than a minute. Amazing stuff.

And then it's time for hubby and I say our "I love yous" and I get wheeled into the operating room. I still feel quite out of it. The OR is not far away, just across the corridor from the pre-op room. I remember the ceiling was grey, the room was cool and airy, there were blue flat panel displays on the right wall, and enormous gleaming white contraptions coming from the roof. Huge lights. I wasn't scared. These people were all friendly and professional. I say "I feel sick" (yes, I know I should be saying "I'm gonna be sick", but give me a break!), and again, I wear it. They get me a bowl, I apologise for making their lovely room smell so bad.

The anaesthetist explains that she is going to give me something to calm me down. She tells the others in the room that I am diabetic "and she's very emotional" I want to rip her head off. No, I'm not emotional. I've just had a f*cken hypo you b1tch! But I am all calm on the outside, and the sedative is so good. The nausea goes away, I regain full cognisance, it seems. I half sit up and see my ob/gyn at the end of the bed. He will be my surgeon today.

A nurse asks if I feel able to scoot across to my right, to the operating table. I get halfway, and the sheet covering me gets stuck. :P Cue various nurses feeling under me to get the caught bit free!

A pillow under my shoulders, lie down. A soft oxygen mask over my nose, but too low so the soft bit squashes my nostrils. I ask for it to go "up, up" and they move it off my face a bit. Soft eyes of the nurse to my right. A black padded extension on my left for my arm to be strapped to, with the IV line in it. It reminds me of the tables you see in movies with the lethal injection. But I'm not scared. Just calm.

The nurses want to know about one of their colleagues, who I know and said hello to in the pre-op room, before all the brouhaha. We went to kung-fu classes together I tell them. Didn't you know? Oops, looks like I've spilled the beans! "Was he good at kung-fu?" they ask. Yep. "Just think of something nice, like kung-fu maybe? Oh, no! Not fighting! Just think of something nice..." I think of my hubby and my kitty. Gentle soft thoughts.

That was at about 2.00pm. I awake in the recovery room, which happens to be the same cubicle as the pre-op. Hubby isn't there. He's supposed to be there. I can't get the energy to ask for him though. A male nurse asks if I have any pain? A little cramping. He gets me a warm blanket all folded up, and places it on my tummy. I've very impressed, since he's a guy and all. But I don't open my eyes. Another nurse asks me if I would like to do a blood test. Yes. It's 11.9 she says. Is that ok for you? Yes. The blood pressure cuff keeps automatically inflating, and stirring me out of sleep.

I don't remember the ride back across to the day ward, but I remember waking up and getting a kiss from hubby. He looks shattered. I'm sick some more. They say something about my pulse, it's down at about 65 bpm. Tests are hovering around 12 mmol/L. Feel yucky, drowsy, dozy. It's about 4.30pm.

All afternoon is spent sleeping and waking to do tests. The lovely nurse asks if I want to eat something, and suddenly I do. She brings two sandwiches, and gives me the wrong one, plus a cup of tea, one sugar. Don't feel like eating. If I move my head, bad things happen. If I don't eat, they won't let me go home. If I am sick again, they will keep me overnight. I nibble on the luncheon, relish and cheese sandwich. It is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted.

I ask Hubby if he's had anything to eat? Here, have my sandwich, you have to eat something! Lovely nurse comes back and thinks I'm making remarkable progress hehe :P

The afternoon is boring. Poor hubby stays by my side. I suddenly seem to get all better, and start talking sense. Lovely nurse agrees, and says that she will bring me some wash cloths. Hubby will walk home to get the car, and a coat for me, since it has started snowing on the mountain.

I am left alone to figure out how to get dressed with an IV still attached. I can't figure out how on earth I'm supposed to put my bra on with one hand. I am very pleased to be standing up and not too woozy. Just do everything slowly. Socks first. Pink t-shirt tangled in IV line. Jeans on. Sneakers. Hmm, can't do the laces with these sore hands. Tie some knots. Busting for a pee. Still attached to the bed!

Hubby returns, his footsteps are the best sound. He asks if I will be ok to go get some dinner. Burger King? Yep! Just what I feel like! He chases down the lovely nurse, and she comes back and untangles and unhooks me. IV out! Yahoo! I get bandages and cream for the bruising, and ice-packs. Coat on. Pit-stop, and then out we go to the car.

And that is my day in the hospital. We escaped around 6.30-ish.

Now I am sitting here typing this v-e-r-y slowly, watching American Idol, seeing Crystal singing I'm Alright by CaddyShack. (Did you know she's a T1?) And I feel fine. No cramps, no pain except for my hands. A bit tired. A weekend ahead of me :D

Morale of the story is this: If you ever EVER have to go in for surgery, and they ask you to stop eating before hand, ask for the IV to be installed as soon as you check in. That way, if you go low, or hypo, you can immediately get some dextrose pumped into you. In my case, something to calm me down wouldn't have gone astray either!

Thanks for reading, hope I haven't put you off your oats! Have a great weekend :D