#to go sleep rn because I got a test today…gonna fail it so bad (it’s all my fault…sighs disappointedly at myself)

[haruchuiyo]

hello 🩷

[archonssun]

Bad Timing

Aaaaand here’s that second story I was talking about. This one will also be a little fluffier than the other story. And this might be a weird story; I’m running on minimal sleep rn, but I wanted to get this idea out before it got lost in the void.

And a note: takes place four years after Noct disappears.

Bad Timing

WC: 1760

You loved to surprise Prompto. In the past few years, it had become a religious practice to surprise him with something every morning. Whether it be a kiss, or hug, or something more, you never failed.

Well, until today.

You hadn’t been feeling too hot for the past few weeks, and you had an inkling as to why. Your gut feeling was confirmed early last week when you were late. You had been floored when you found out and were excited, but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared out of your mind at the same time.

It wasn’t the fact that you were pregnant with Prompto’s child that had you worried. No, you always knew you wanted to start a family with the blond. It was the fact that your child would be born into a dangerous world, and who knows if they would ever see the sun.

***

“(N/n)?” Prompto’s voice reached your ears and you panicked, hiding the test in your boot. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, giving him a smile. “I’m okay, Prom.”

Prompto’s forehead furrowed just slightly with a frown before it was wiped off by one of the other Hunters that had taken up residence in Hammerhead.

“Oh, yeah, we’ve got another hunt,” Prompto said suddenly, straightening from where he was leaning against the doorframe. “You coming along?”

Against your better judgement, you nodded, taking his hand in yours and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys out there in a minute, ‘kay?” The blond nodded and gave you a kiss in return before leaving the caravan, leaving you alone with a pregnancy test stuffed into your shoe.

***

This was a mistake, you cursed yourself, already feeling a bit queasy from the amount of movement you had down in an effort to down the daemon. Everytime you would roll or flip out of the way, you had to fight back the urge to throw up.

You thought you had done a pretty good job at disguising your discomfort, but your blond lover knew you hadn’t been feeling well. He had snapped at the other hunters when they had asked him to grab you for this hunt, but had wound up doing it anyway. Despite how much he wanted you to be far from the battlefield when you were ill.

Prompto watched you like a hawk, rarely letting you leave his sight. It was around the time that the daemon had been defeated that he looked over and saw your brows furrowed and your bottom lips between your teeth.

“(Y/n),” he whispered, cupping your face as he turned your eyes up to meet his. “What’s wrong? Please, tell me.”

At first you refused to speak, eyes cast down as you thought up a way to get out of answering the question. After a few moments, Prompto sighed, pulling you against his chest.

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna tell me everything,” he began, stroking your hair. “I promise, I’ll help in any way I can.”

“I just miss Iggy and Gladio,” you wrapped your arms around his back as you hummed, pouting when Prompto let out a quiet laugh.

“You wanna go see ‘em?” he questioned. He placed a kiss to your forehead when you nodded. “‘Kay. Let’s go.”

***

“Iggy,” you muttered, the blind man turning in the direction of your voice. The royal advisor wore a small frown, and that was when you knew: Iggy knew about the baby. Instead of saying anything more, you walked up and hugged the man, thankful that Prompto was off training with Gladio somewhere else at that moment.

“Iggy, I’m scared.” His hands came to rest on your upper back, rubbing in circles.

“Have you told Prompto?”

“... no …”

“You need to tell him, (Y/n). He has a right to know.”

“I know,” you grimaced, hands fisting in his shirts as you buried your head into his chest. “But I’m scared he won’t--”

“(Y/n), I have known Prompto for many years, so trust me when I say he will be happy,” Ignis said, a scolding tone in his voice for a split second. You heaved a sigh before backing away from the man and looking him in the eyes.

“Okay, I’ll tell him, soon…”

***

Sorry, Iggy. You grimaced. It had been two weeks since you had talked to the man, and you still hadn’t told Prompto. There wasn’t a good time to bring it up, because you two would be out hunting daemons basically all day, every day. Thankfully, though, you had gotten over your morning sickness, so the blond probably just thought you had a bug or something. Now, you were pretty good when it came to fast movements and battle, but you preferred to stay on the backlines with Prompto.

You lifted the rifle in your arms, lining up the shot with the daemon before pulling the trigger. The shot rang out in the endless dark, and you watched from downrange as the daemon collapsed. It was quickly swarmed by the rest of the hunters and finished off, ending your little foray into the landscape outside Hammerhead.

“You good?” Prompto’s hand came to clasp your shoulder, and you nodded, standing and popping your back. You hummed in response and took his hand, rubbing at your eyes. You needed sleep -- real sleep.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t hear it, the sound of an Iron Giant spawning right behind you. Your sleep-deprived brain couldn’t understand what was happening as your body was suddenly flung to the side. Your back hit a rock, stopping you dead and giving a view that made your blood run cold.

“Prompto!” Your screech had the rest of the hunters racing to where you two were, but the damage had already been done. Prompto had taken the hit that had been meant for you, his side now having a fairly large hole in it. You held your breath, waiting for his chest to rise and fall, and when it didn’t, you swore you heard your heart crack.

You couldn’t focus, couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that Prompto wasn’t breathing, that he wasn’t fighting. You barely remember running to his side, pulling his head into your lap as you slouched over him. Tears fell to his face, cutting through the grime and blood caked on his skin. You couldn’t remember using a Phoenix Down, either; could only remember the rush of relief when the blond began breathing again.

“You can’t die here,” you sobbed, pressing your forehead to his and squeezing your eyes shut. “You can’t leave me, you can’t leave us. Please, wake up.”

“Thank the Six you’re okay.” Prompto’s voice was hoarse, and just the sound of it made the tears fall faster when you met his eyes.

“You can’t die, Prom.” Biting your lip, you decided he needed to know. “I’m pregnant, Prom. Please, don’t leave us behind. Please, stay…”

You always did have the worst timing.

***

Not once did you leave Prompto’s side. Not when he was transported to Lestallum, not when he was brought to the one hospital that could help, not even when he lay motionless on a bed.

It had been three days since he had been injured, and your tears had dried up on the second day. So you sat next to the bed, gripping his hand tightly and resting your head on your arm.

“(Y/n),” Ignis broke the silence as he walked into the room, carrying a small container in his hands. “You need to eat something. This isn’t good for the child.”

You lifted your head from the bed, turning blank eyes to the advisor. You mumbled out an ‘okay’ and Ignis walked up to your side and handed you the container. You were slow to begin eating, but once you had begun you realized how hungry you were and the food was gone all too soon. Once you were finished, you put the empty container on the table beside the bed, then went back to watching over Prompto.

“I can’t lose him, Ignis,” you choked out, grabbing Prompto’s hand again. “I’ve lost too much already. If I were to lose him, too--”

A groan fell from Prompto’s lips, cutting you off as you shot to your feet. Forgetting what you had been saying to Ignis, you cupped the blond’s face, tears threatening to fall. Your face hovered over his, waiting.

“Prom? Please, wake up,” you whispered, thumb grazing against his cheekbone. His face scrunched up, and a few seconds later his blue eyes met your (e/c). A smile split your face and you pressed one kiss after another to his face. You heard the door close behind you and Prompto sat up, his hands resting at your waist. His eyes were downcast, staring at your stomach.

“(Y/n), were you serious? Are you really--”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “I should have told you earlier. Fuck, even Iggy told me that. But I … I was scared of what you’d think.” Silence followed your admission and you felt your hope wither.

“It’s alright,” Prompto muttered as he pulled you into a hug and placed a kiss to the crown of your head. “Fuck, you’re pregnant. We’re gonna be parents; we’re gonna have a family of our own.” He pulled away from you and you were blinded by the smile on his face. “You’ve no idea how happy that makes me. I’d die a happy man.”

***

“Legatum!” Your voice echoed throughout Hammerhead, chasing after your son as his father watched. “You get back here, you little brat!”

“(Y/n)?” a voice you hadn’t heard in a decade caused you to freeze, your head turning towards Talcott’s truck to see a familiar face.

“Noct?” Prompto was the first to voice his surprise, rushing to his best friend with wide eyes. “Is that really you?”

But Noct was preoccupied with the child that was a miniature version of Prompto. The boy -- Legatum, he had heard you call him -- was the spitting image of his friend, down to the barely visible freckles on the boy’s face. Legatum had inherited Prompto’s blond hair and blue eyes, and Noct knew that this was Prompto’s son.

“‘Noct’?” Legatum asked, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked the man up and down. “You’re Uncle Noct? I thought you would be … smaller-- ow!”

You had whacked Legatum over the head, your eyes never leaving Noct.

“It really is you, Noct,” you smiled. “Welcome home, My King.”

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

just gonna rant about my health issues to no one in particular for a bit under the cut sooo

im just so fucking tired of being sick all the time like. its been almost 2 years now of actively Going To Doctors And Having Tests Done And Trying To Get A Diagnosis and fucking!!! nothing works!!! and i only have until the end of this coming school year to get it figured out before my insurance runs out otherwise im just fucked!!! because im sure as hell not gonna be able to afford a fucking mri every six months making 10 bucks an hour at some retail shithole but so far ive seen SIX different fucking doctors (not counting 2 ER visits) because they all just keep shuffling me back and forth like “idk maybe have someone else deal with this? weird lol” or like “have you considered that maybe you might have anxiety :) you seem stressed :)” 

like yeah its a fucking stressful situation getting progressively fucking sicker for two goddamn years wasting thousands of dollars and reaching the end of a fucking ticking clock because almost every doctor ive seen is an incompetent jackass who does NOTHING but waste my time and money and then fucking condescend to me about anxiety like!!! yeah i probably DO have anxiety and depression and autism and what the fuck ever else but this isnt THAT 

and the literal ONE TIME i had ANY treatment that worked AT ALL helping with my eye spasms (literally One of Many Symptoms that i deal with on a fucking daily basis that still manages to completely fuck up my life) is something i cant take anymore because it damaged my fucking eyes!!! possibly permanently!!! i already HAD issues wtih light sensitivity that this medicine made WAYYY fucking worse and guess whats one of the WORST things at setting off my eye spasms??? anything to do with fucking light so YEAH thANKS for that @ the opthalmologist who had me take those damn eye drops for two months straight, which other neuro opthalmologist said was bullshit when i saw her again, not that im letting HER off the hook either since she REFERRED me to that incompetent bitch in the first place and then had NO solution other than “hm well you definitely shouldnt take that medicine again, but theres literally No Other Treatment, maybe blow another $400 in a few months to come see me again so i can continue to Not Help You In Any Way”

and its getting wORSE ALL THE TIME!!! and the best thing doctors can think of is “hm well maybe wait a bit to see if it gets worse? and maybe then we’ll know what it is?” well its getting worse!!!! but they still dont seem to know what it is!!! like at first it was just my vision going out of focus for a few seconds at a time, then it was a few minutes, then i was having visual distortion (or maybe hallucinations? who knows! certainly not any of the fucking doctors ive seen!), then awful fucking eye strain headaches, then spasms in my neck, then my jaw, then my arms, then my legs, now all fucking over, and now i get sick and dizzy just by moving my HEAD too far or too suddenly and like at work earlier today i was just stumbling around for two hours bc there was too much pressure in my head and everything felt tilted and i was just grabbing at every surface trying not to fall with my head like on my shoulder bc keeping my neck straight was too fucking hard and i swear to fuckign god a couple nights ago there was this weird buzzing on the side of my face??? and like it felt like my mouth was moving slower than it should??? but i dont even KNOW if thats a Real SymptomTM or if i was just freaked out and tired and imagining things or if i really am just getting to be a paranoid delusional nutcase about my health because every little thing terrifies me at this point, like ive been coughing for a couple weeks and instead of being like “oh its a bad cold” im like “maybe now my immune systems fucked up too maybe this is A New Symptom” i literally cant tell anymore i have no fucking idea 

and i dont WANT to think about all this All The Fucking Time but i do!!!!! i literally HAVE to bc it affects my life in every fucking possible way and i cant escape it like even rn the light from the fuckign computer is hurting my eyes and i cant even see what im typing half the time bc my eyes keep going out of focus and my teeth keep chattering and my head hurts or ill go to get a drink of water but then just Stand there for a few minutes bc i dont trust myself to hold a cup full of water and not spill it bc im having spasms or ill have to wear sunglasses at the dinner table bc my fucking idiot asshole dad got the BRIGHTEST possible lightbulbs for the dining room and i physically cant stand them 

or like im already dreading having to explain all this shit to my professors this semester about how like “oh so i probably wont be able to keep up with daily readings, especialyl not if theyre on physical paper and i cant scale up the text because my eyes just spontaneously stop working and i cant read..... and ill need a computer to take notes, i can Usually hold a pencil but one time i had a spasm in class and flung it across the room and it was super embarrassing and i ltierally skipped that class for weeks because of it so id really rather not deal with that again.... and even though im a fuckign AMAZING public speaker like, state champion debate level public speaking, ill still probably get super fucking nervous and suck at any kind of in class presentation bc ill just be thinking about my spasms the whole time and wont be able to focus....... and ill have to wear sunglasses all the time too so hopefully thats not an issue........ and also ill probably miss a lot of class bc whether or not i can handle walking half a mile Varies Wildly from day to day and also i have a lot of doctors appointments and sometimes im on medicine that completely ruins my sleep schedule so you know... looking forward to a great semester, hope i dont completely fail your class” 

and i have fuckign work tomorrow where ill have to deal with trying to pretend like even the most minor tasks arent painful and difficult and deal with awful btichy entitled customers complaining that im not SMILEY enough for you like the motherfucker who asked me how i was and i said fine and he was like “jUuUUuuuST fINE” like shut the everlasting FUCK UP with that ive met my obligation leave me ALONE my day isnt FINE im in awful pain and i HATE you and everyone like you or ill have to deal with my coworkers giving me weird looks while im having spasms or outright MOCKING me for them like the asshole that called me TWITCH (and a whore, but thats Another Fucking Story) or just not knowing how to deal and making bad taste jokes like when my teeth are chattering bc I Physically Cant Make It Stop like “haha are you chewing an invisible piece of gum lol” like no bitch im a neurological nightmare and my brain doesnt work and im Barely Holding Together would you PLEASE shut the fuck up 

and most of the time i just feel like everyone thinks im a fucking freak like even just sitting in the waiting room to see the neurologist or opthalmologist or whatever and everyone else there is Old and im the only person even remotely close to my age there and even the doctors dont seem to take me that seriously bc of it like “oh shes young, cant be that bad, all these old people out here are gonna die like tomorrow so why worry about this girl, its probably just anxiety from being on her period or having a test to study for lol” like straight up when the movement disorder neurologist was examining me she was like “im not used to seeing anyone this young or healthy’ and i know she meant it relatively speaking but like!!! clearly im NOT healthy or i wouldnt BE here like obviously something is wrong with me and its ruining my life and its serious and id like it fixed thanks!!!!! 

and i feel like No One Gets It like, obviously there are people wayyyy sicker than i am who suffer a lot more or people in similar situations but like. i dont Personally Know someone like that i can just talk to and like, of course i have friends who can Listen but.................................. theres a difference from being able to listen and being able to actually Understand and sometimes you just cant Get It unless youve gone through it like i really dont think ANYONE in my life has any idea how serious this is or how much it affects me and i know i cant expect everyone to just Always Think Of My IssuesTM but little things!!! like maybe NOT having the brighest possible lightbulbs in the dining room!!!! my brother NOT having his birthday party at dave and busters, which i had TONS of spasms at last time i went (and im even worse now!) AND the staff gave me shit about wearing sunglasses so now im nervous about That too or just! idk! people respecting and listening to me when i tell them that i Cant Do Something or that Doing That Thing Hurts and not just brushing me off or telling me im overreacting and then getting all shocked pikachu face when their dumbassery actually physically HURTS me and i get pissed with them for it!!!!

i dont think anyone gets how much it scares me all the time or how its Always on my mind and i literally cant think about anything else like. this could be the rest of my life. this could end my life. i dont know what i have. i might get diagnosed in the next month and have it completely cured, i might get a diagnosis and still be sick forever, i might not find out until its too late and i have LITERALLY NO FUCKING IDEA WHICH ONE!!!! ITS GREAT!!!!!!!! WELCOME TO MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sassyyyybiatch]

Day 1/180

This week has been a HELL OF A WEEK honestly. I feel like somebody cursed me or something. On Monday I stepped on cat poop 😽 😽 🐈 🐈 💩 💩 and because of that, I could not wear my Nike 👟 👟 👟 for soccer training on Wednesday which got me scolded for “not wearing appropriate running shoes”. My temporary shoes were a burden as well as it kind of gave me sores. Yesterday night my bed frame collapsed (it is about 17 years old so yea) and I stayed up trying to fix it until I gave up at 4 am and slept on the floor instead, resulting in me being late for school today and missing my soccer morning run which my captain don’t seem to be happy about my absence. I also got back my econs test paper (which I studied really hard on) to which I failed by a mark. So really feeling so shitty rn  💩 💩 💩 💩 I had no idea such a series of unfortunate events could occur in just a week. Oh god. Tomorrow is the last day of school for the week, and I’m praying that this chain of bad luck ends here. 

And if it doesn’t? 

I’ll still be alive the next day and life is still beautiful (i hope) 

My point here is that SHIT HAPPENS (literally, shit happens)  🙄  🙄 🙄 and the question is; what am I gonna do about it?   💭 💭 💭 🤔 🤔 🤔

Wait what? I’m suppose to give an answer? Honestly idk what I am going to do, but I’ll start by killing the damn cat that pooped on my school track first  😂 😂 😂 im kidding 

UPDATE: 1030 am : got message from econs teacher to give holiday homework which was suppose to be due decades ago… 1200 am: Just saw the message 1201 am: Went to check econs hw which place at the exact location the last time and found that its not there! 1202 am: frantically searching all subject files and in between tutorial books pages 1220 am: still searching… 1225 am: still searching …. 1236 am: contemplates for a while and ask god why this happens… continues searchingg…. 1240am : typing this post on tumblr hell guess im not sleeping today 😂😂 UPDATE: apparently i've already handed up my econs holiday hw 2 months ago lol 😂 life is still bootifulll ♥️♥️♥️

[trans-feel]

Today was painful but EUPHORIC!

So i started off today at like 445, and I couldn't get back to sleep. So I did the only logical thing and that was put on my leggings.

E U P H O R I C

I get up, shower, and get ready for my algebra class. It went well, I was just distracted because I wasn't comfy. I took off the leggings to shower and haven't felt good since. So I say fuck it and go another 2 hrs without them on. I do my macroeconomics class, then beeline it back to my dorm.

At this point my best friend sent me some trans resources that I reblogged earlier today. So I made a homemade gaff, put it on, then leggings, then pants. IT FELT AMAZING!!! NO BULGE IN SIGHT!

And so I take off my pants and im chilling in just my leggings. And then I hear my roommate at the door trying to get it .....FUCK! I'm sooooo fucking glad he doesn't have keys cause if he did, I would have been caught vibing in leggings and NO bulge. My roomie is very masc so its important to him for men to have masc features.

I throw on some pants. Still wearing the leggings, still tucked. And we be chilling like that until our last class at 1. After that class, HE FINALLY LEFT THE DORM!!

I then got my wax strips and went to work. It hurt sooooooo much, I cried a lot. My goal was one leg, then move onto the second. After I ran out, I go to the shower and start shaving.

I take almost an hour in there, and only ONE leg up the the knee all the way around was completely done. But it was sooo worth it! My right leg from the knee down. Completely smooth. No question. But I dont feel too much rn, and it's a bit sensitive. Cause I waxed the whole thing from long hairy hairs to nothing.

The last thing I wanted to do was the one thing I really kinda failed. I called up the place near my campus that does informed consent. That means that they tell me the risks, and if I accept, they give me HRT! Unfortunately I can't get an appt till I'm 18. Only 16 days to go though! The bad part about this though, is that when they asked what pronouns I used i panicked and said they/them. And when they asked a preferred name, i used my deadname and not Alexandra. So that put a damper on my day.

But otherwise an amazing day! Super happy with how my right leg turned out! Gonna need to pick up more wax strips and razors soon! Preferably after my license test on the 15th!

<3

-Alexandra

[type2diabetestreatments-blog]

Ask D'Mine: Basal vs. Bolus Tweaks, Stockpiling Supplies?

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/ask-dmine-basal-vs-bolus-tweaks-stockpiling-supplies/

Ask D'Mine: Basal vs. Bolus Tweaks, Stockpiling Supplies?

If it isn't one thing with diabetes, it's another — from trying to figure out what the heck's going on overnight, to the understandable paranoia that sometimes sets in. But we at the 'Mine are here to support you! We've got another edition of our weekly advice column, Ask D'Mine, hosted by veteran type 1, diabetes author and community educator Wil Dubois.

Need help navigating life with diabetes? Email us at AskDMine@diabetesmine.com

Joanne from Maine, type 1 writes: For the last week or so, I have been consistently low at bedtime, but then high overnight. I hate being up to 200 all night, so if I'm over 150 at bedtime, I usually take a small insulin correction... but then I often go too low later. This seems to be a pattern, but I'm not sure what to adjust, the basal or the dinnertime bolus? Is there a way to tell which of the two is "off?"

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: A quick review for you type 2s, type 3s, and diabetes groupies (I actually haven't met any diabetes groupies yet, but I keep hoping): basal insulin is the "foundation insulin" we type 1s take to control blood sugar between meals and overnight. It can be an extended-release insulin that's taken once per day, or can be a constant drip of fast-acting insulin from a pump. Bolus insulin is a stronger, faster, shorter-lasting insulin that's used to help our bodies metabolize meals and snacks and dietary indiscretions.

Sounds simple, right?

Wrong.

Sorting out the cause and effect from the two overlapping insulins can be a Herculean task. And I probably won't be able to give you THE answer today. But I can give you some tools you can use to discover the answer for yourself.

First off: consistently low at bedtime suggests to me that you're taking too much of your fast-acting insulin with dinner. The job of fast-acting is to negate the effect of the meal. It lasts for around four hours in most folks, so four hours after dinner your blood sugar should be back to where it was before you ate. If it's lower than where you started, assuming you weren't high and took a little extra to correct, then you're taking too much. In this case it's the dinnertime bolus that needs to be adjusted.

Now, if your bedtime is less than four hours after dinner, and you take a correction for a 150, you could be "stacking" your insulin. You're piling new insulin on top of insulin that's still on the job; and that'll lead to a low down the road. Just remember that if you took insulin less than four hours before, your sugar will continue to drop. If it's been more than four hours since dinner, then the correction may be too aggressive.

If everything checks out with the meal time, and the correction, then there are three likely causes of waking up higher in the morning than when you went to sleep.

First, your basal might be wearing off. If you are taking a shot of basal insulin in the morning, it might be wearing off overnight. It's supposed to last 24 hours in most people, but in some folks it can wear off in as little as 18 hours. Or if you're on a pump, the rate could be too low during sleep.

The second possible cause is the dawn phenomenon, in which your wake-up hormones raise your blood sugar right before your alarm goes off in the morning.

And the third possible cause is the funkily named Somogyi effect, a.k.a. rebound hyperglycemia, where you sleep though a severe low in the middle of the night—either triggered by too much nighttime basal, an overly aggressive bedtime correction bolus, or by too much dinner insulin—and your body dumps sugar into your system to save itself. If you find yourself getting higher and higher in the morning, even though you are increasing your basal insulin every day, you're very likely suffering from the Somogyi effect.

There are a few other oddball causes of overnight elevations like high fat foods, sleep apnea, sleep walking to the pantry, and alien abduction—but let's not make this any more complicated than it already is.

To get to the bottom of this you're going to need a glucometer, a compass, an alarm clock, a pad of sticky notes, a pen, and a flashlight with a red lens.

I'm just kidding. You won't need the compass.

You said you were low at bedtime and high overnight. I read that to mean you found yourself high in the morning. We need to know when the rise actually begins. You assumed that you ran high all night, and maybe you did, but have you proved it? I think, by now, you see where the alarm clock is going to come into play.

What you need to do is set your alarm for various middle-of-the-night times and check your blood sugar. I'd start around 3am. Of course having the fricken' alarm shatter your slumber can raise your blood sugar, too, so have that meter close by the alarm clock and test without delay. And be sure to buy something nice for your type 3. You know, to make up for the shared inconvenience.

I recommended the red flashlight to save your eyes the trauma of a bright light in the middle of the night. Oh, warning: a red-lens flashlight will make your blood drop will look like the creepy X-Files Oil Aliens.

You're going to have to dedicate some time to this little project, testing at different times of the night. The goal is to determine when the blood sugar rise starts, and how dramatic that rise is. That, in turn, should reveal the cause, which, of course, will lead you to the cure. This is kinda like the testing that we pumpers do for getting our basal patterns down, but will be much easier for you in this case, as we're only looking for one fact, and you only need to do one test each night—not multiple tests every night.

Here's your cheat sheet:

Evidence: Slow steady raise in blood sugars throughout the night. Probable cause: insufficient basal.

Evidence: Nice blood sugars until just before dawn. Probable cause: the dawn phenomenon.

Evidence: Nicely dropping blood sugars until 2am or so (or about 4 hours after your last fast-acting dose, either dinner or bedtime correction), then an increase well before dawn. Probable cause: Somogyi tsunami.

Happy testing, Joanne, and let us know how it turns out!

Matt from Florida, type 1, writes: Given all the political uncertainties and turmoil around the world, it's made me wonder if I should be "stockpiling" diabetes supplies... you know, sort of survivalist-style. I was wondering, Wil, do you personally stockpile diabetes stuff for the worst-case scenario?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: I have personally stockpiled enough infusion sets, cartridges, CGM sensors, insulin, glucose tablets, test strips, and batteries to last until December 21, 2012. There didn't seem to be much point in having anything on hand beyond that date.

But seriously, Matt, no. No, I don't. I did a run of four-day wear on my pump's infusion sets and cartridges a while back, along with stretching my CGM sensors—both at the cost of some nasty skin rashes—so I could bank some extras. But I wasn't preparing for the end of the world. I did it to lower my stress level over the chronic monthly insurance hassles that always seem to make my diabetes supplies a few days late. Having a month or so of diabetes stuff on hand makes me ride out those storms with lower blood pressure.

I don't really worry about anything apocalyptic, and even though our country is a certifiable mess, I don't worry about a civil war, either. Which is not to say you shouldn't be prepared for the more garden-variety disasters that happen every day, like earthquakes and floods. For that you should be prepared (see our preparedness guide here).

I do sometimes lose some sleep over the unintended consequences of health insurance reform. Don't get me wrong. I'm very much in favor of universal health care. I'm just not too sure the current approach is gonna be a good one. Unlike most insured people who say they like their health insurance, I've actually had to use mine (the point at which most citizens discover that their coverage might not be quite what they thought it was), and I still more-or-less like it, even so.

Come 2014 (assuming the world doesn't end this winter) my insurance will go away. It will be replaced by something else. Will it be better? Will it be worse? Will it be more expensive? I don't know.

I like the fact that my being a type 1 PWD will no longer count against me. I like the fact that should I get my ass fired from the clinic, I could buy insurance as an individual—an option I do not have right now.

But I worry. I worry that the wolves are in charge of the hen house. I worry that even with the wolves on collars, some group of boneheads in DC will decide that insulin pumps really aren't needed. Or that CGMs aren't really needed. Or that one test strip per day should be really enough for everyone.

But there's no way to stockpile enough supplies for the rest of my life. Insulin goes bad. CMG sensors are like milk, they have very real expiration dates. Even the sticky stuff on infusion sets fails to stick given enough time. I'm not stockpiling because these things really don't stockpile well.

If it's my future to go back on the needle with too few test strips, a stockpile will only delay the inevitable. If that's my future I'd just as soon buy into the whole Mayan thing.

This is not a medical advice column. We are PWDs freely and openly sharing the wisdom of our collected experiences — our been-there-done-that knowledge from the trenches. But we are not MDs, RNs, NPs, PAs, CDEs, or partridges in pear trees. Bottom line: we are only a small part of your total prescription. You still need the professional advice, treatment, and care of a licensed medical professional.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

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