Diabetes & Alcohol

Dear FLC, I’m hungover. I’m not a drinker, mainly because alcohol is just *such* a shitty drug that has too many side effects (case-in-point: hungovered-ness). Last night I heard that there was a place in town that had power so I found shoes and off I went. The bartender had her thumb on the diet coke button when a Cruzan pineapple rum with cranberry juice was ordered – coulda knocked that poor girl over with a feather (Heather? drinking?!). We had some snacks as well and by the time we were home (10PM) the power was back on. All in all, it was a good night.
See, the problem with drinking for all diabetics (Type 1, Type 2, and every other kind) is that the human body prioritizes. So, our livers go from working at a normal pace: process this, release sugar now, filter that, rinse, repeat, etc. When we throw some alcohol into the mix, the liver does the equivalent to sweeping its desk clean and focusing only on the alcohol; basically ignoring everything else.
That’s when our diabetic medications can get us into trouble–see, the medications aren’t thinkers, they are just up in there doing there jobs like a computer driven vacuum cleaner (or a Roomba) sucking up sugar. Well, if the liver doesn’t provide sugar on its normal schedule then the vacuum cleaner can suck up sugar we may have needed thus leading to potentially scary lows. The lows can be extra scary because if you add enough alcohol then you cannot feel the low happening. Then, the next day, my LEAST favorite thing in the world can happen–rebound highs. After finishing the alcohol project your liver PANICS at all of the work he pushed off his desk and just dumps a bunch of sugar at the problem leading to random HIGH blood sugars.
*shrugs*
There is no perfect answer and I will happily smack down the first person who says Diabetics shouldn’t drink. It’s our bodies; we get to make choices about what makes us happy. I just don’t like anyone making an uniformed choice; know what your body does and why it does it. Make your choices accordingly and be happy with your life.

For anyone curious about what Herbert did last night, he did a great (and annoying(ly awesome)) alert where he stood on the picnic table to tell me that I was was trending high. I took a couple units of regular insulin to counteract the juice (but less than I normally would have to account for the alcohol). All was well. Today, despite feeling generally crappy (yes. after 1 1/2 alcoholic beverages I get a hangover) my blood sugar was a lovely 108 mg/dL.
*smooches*
-H

FoodLady Chronicles- yeah….things. edition:

So things have been bad, I feel crappy whining about things because they are really more “first world problem” bad than truly bad.
Example? I am without a car. My old taurus has officially died the death of oh dead dead which means I have been walking to work. Herbert (service dog) thinks this WAY better than driving and it is only about a mile. Yes, this sucks, and yes, it sucks trying to do things like “buy food”, but really…things could be worse.
For example, it would have been worse if last night when I got home from work the two dogs at home could have gotten into the trash, destroyed a pillow, disassembled the couch, and begun gnawing on the arm of the couch which was *just* paid off. (I wasn’t worried about the new couch because it is made of METAL)
oh wait, that *wasn’t* a bad dream, that actually happened.
*whimper*

Diabetic Stuffs – An Odd Herbert Alert

Just had an odd Herbert alert while sitting at my desk reading a draft review of our program and getting *super* annoyed. It is a 21 page report.  After reading 9 pages and putting in 16 comments while loudly chewing gum and grumbling many “ughs!”, “hell no’s”, and a variety of other profanities, I look over at a Herbert giving me the death-stare from a perfect sit (a/k/a an alert) and I said, “Oh! okay…?” and checked my blood sugar (92mg/dL). As soon as I pulled out my kit he went back to floppy sleepy Herbert – so, was he alerting me to an upcoming low (possible – haven’t eaten lunch) or has he just decided once I start radiating irritated rage he should probably pop up to remind me that it’s just a stupid report and to calm the hell down? Don’t know, don’t care. Either way – Good Herbie – here’s a biscuit.  As you can see, his under-desk snooze has returned to his non-alert status. *grin*

Herbert Under Desk

The Best Dog Training Advice I’ve Never Read

So, I enjoy dog training. To me, it combines the fun of a hobby with the love and companionship of a dog, so it’s awesome. I don’t know that if I had to do it everyday and if I had to deal with the exhaustion of dealing with the people that came along with their dogs if I would love it as much, but that is why I don’t do it professionally. I wrote a while ago in this post about general dog training advice that my frustration with “The Dog Whisperer” is that a lot of his advice *is* good, but some of his other advice is *really* bad. I wouldn’t even have much of a problem with that if the man continued trying to learn, or at least learned new things and admitted once in a while that he has (as we all have) made mistakes.

While working with Miss Mia and attempting to introduce her into the household I made about 19 mistakes – but by golly, I learned from each and every one of them. She is now fully enmeshed in “the pack” and the current love interest of a SamSam. They spend approximately 19 hours of each day licking each other (ick!) and if they aren’t licking (ick!), they are sharing a stolen hanger with each of them chewing a side in a very “Lady & the Tramp” sort of way (awww!) or sleeping canoodled together (it really is disgustingly cute).

I said all of that to basically say – 99.5% of everything I do in regards to dog training has been learned by attending dog training classes or reading dog training books, blogs, websites, chat rooms, etc.; in other words – everything I know has been learned from others. The only thing that I do that I have never seen written before (although I am sure I didn’t invent it – just haven’t found anyone who wrote it down) is a wipe down. It’s one of the ways I bond with sick and/or injured rescues, comfort puppies, and reinforce that happylovepack feeling to all my dogs and it is just as simple as it sounds – wipe down the dog.

It doesn’t have to be overly special, I have wiped down dogs by using a post-shower damp towel, baby wipes, wet washclothes, dampened paper towels, t-shirts, pretty much anything handy. If you are dealing with a nervous dog don’t wipe their head or face, just gently wipe down their body. Over time (weeks), they will become more comfortable and you will be able to wipe them from nose to tail. A couple of reasons I think this wipe down technique helps form a bond and soothe a dog is because dogs naturally groom each other when they are comfortable together and a mama dog licks pups to keep them clean and soothe them. Am I 100% certain that those are the reasons it works? Nope. Does it work for me and for dogs in my house? Yep. Do I recommend this for everyone with a dog? Yep.

So, spend two minutes everyday gently wiping down a loved dog in your life. It will make you closer, happier, and will help pave the way for further training.

Love, FoodLady

FoodLady Chronicles – heard this morning edition:

Everyone has their own language with their loved ones. Thankfully there were no other humans around to hear my conversation with the dogs this morning because in reflection, I may have sounded a wee bit macabre:
*FoodLady leaves bedroom, sees Sam in hallway*, “Sam, where did you get that trachea?! I didn’t give you a trachea……Herbert!?! you have a trachea as well!? I see….so we raided the treat box. Mia, no….you can’t steal Herbert’s trachea–he’ll kill you…….here, here *grabs bully stick from box*….have a penis. Okay, fine….Sam, have the penis. Mia, here is a trachea.”
*happy peaceful canine munching sounds*
*FoodLady walks past bathroom, sees another stolen trachea carefully half hidden under a towel and bellows*, “Herbert! we do not hide stolen trachea in the bathroom!” *picks up trachea and stomps around looking for more stolen bovine anatomy.*
Good morning from the anatomy thieving fuzzy-butts.

Diabetic Randomness

If you’re anything like most people who check their blood sugar (glucose) you are a big fan of your non-dominant hand’s middle and ring fingers. Why? Because it is easiest to use your dominant hand to hold the pokey and your middle and ring fingers are the least painful to receive the pokey; it is not a surprise this is the choice of the many. So after badgering y’all to poke yourself more often – now I’m going to be all judgy mcjudgerson on the where?!? Nope. But I will give you some tricks I have heard/read/learned over the years. One way to make sure you move lancet sites is to choose your Finger of the Day. This is not my system, but I am going to give it a whirl.

  • Odd days – Left Hand
  • Even days – Right Hand
  • Start on the lower side of the finger pad and continue in an arc pattern
    • don’t do more than 6 pokes on one finger pad per day (move to next finger if needed)
    • this allows each finger pad a week to heal between poke days.

Hope this helps!

FoodLady Chronicles – I’m tired. edition

Dear Miss Mia (a/k/a pain in my ass hyper-happy pibble o’ doom) and Mr. SamSam (a/k/a asshole),
We (FoodLady, FoodMan, Herbert (only. good. dog. here), and Lucille (kitty) formally request that both of you knock. it. da. fuq. off. now. please.
It is a superbigpainintheass to keep the two of you separated and my limited ‘speriments (shut up, I’m a scientist) of allowing the two of y’all to hang out always start out promising until Sam gets a bug up his butt about…..I don’t know….a misplaced fart?!? maybe Mia makes faces at him behind my back??!! and then Sam gets bitchy and Mia gets all “I’m Godsdamned Xena Super Kung Fu Puppy, Asswipe – let’s rumble!” and then Herbert can’t help but get involved but he has no horse in the race and basically acts a fool trying to be rough and tough too until I start to play, “Now. Everyone. Must. Die! No Food For You! Or You! Or You! edition” and poor special “I’m involved too!” Herbert ends up looking the fool with a leg of whatever dog he could reach in his mouth.
it. is. exhausting.
Additionally, Miss Mia? I love you. I do. Sure, you are a rather gross pustule-laden, scarred, drooling monster of adoration – shit, that’s kinda right in my doggie wheelhouse – but as much as I adore you, after I spend 20 minutes massaging in that sulfur-rich goop into your scaly bits you stink like, well, sulfur. Please don’t be offended that you get locked in your baby-gate area following your bath & goop sessions. Look on the bright side, you got a bully-stick (smoked bull penis, nope – not kidding, it’s a thing) to chew on!
Smooches,
FoodLady!

FoodLady Chronicles: here we go again puppy fixer-upper

So, things in the house of FoodLady were calm. There were only two dogs and one kitten and it was (generally) peaceful. We can’t have that now, can we? Allow me to introduce y’all to Mia. When I first met this little princess she was a teeny tiny little 8 week old puppy who could fit in my pocket. *sigh* She was just *so* damn cute even though it irritated the ever loving hell out of me that whoever had the puppy before my friend adopted her cut her ears (why do I hate this – let me count the ways: 1. because you cut. the. ears. off. a. puppy. you. narcissistic. sociopath. 2. dogs speak in body language – ears are a large part of that language. when you hack off the ears they end up looking intimidating to humans and occasionally to other dogs – thus increasing the negative stereotype of a pit bull and increase the chances of dog-dog aggression. so please don’t do that because you think it “looks cool” you complete asshole. I’ll tell you what; I will accept you cutting off your dog’s ears if I am allowed to cut off my choice of your anatomy – seems a fair exchange to me). Now, fast forward about a year and a half and she is now a brick-house of a mange-riddled pit bull terrier with an eye infection, clogged ears, and toenails that were seriously out of control. Mia belongs to a friend of mine who loves her very much, but hasn’t been able to get her demodectic mange under control and I believe just became overwhelmed with her issues. I agreed to take on little miss Mia for a minimal boarding fee (covers some of my food costs) and the agreement that I would be reimbursed for all veterinary costs and that she would go back home within a few months.

Miss Mia had been to my house before and that was when I learned that little Mr. Sam Sam and little Miss Mia would prefer to have a bloody show down to the death rather than, say, a puppy play date. To be fair to Miss Mia – she doesn’t start any of the drama, but as soon as Mr. Sam Sam gets out of line she attempts to finish the drama and him, being the stubborn asshat that only he can be, continues to escalate. So, that is why we are taking this round of introductions much more slowly than I have ever had to before.  That isn’t really a problem because I am such a patient person – oh wait, NO I’M NOT. This is making me crazy – it has been seven days as of today strategically using baby gates which is a total pain in the ass. Now, if someone was asking me how long this situation would take to get everyone comfortable around each other I would tell them six months at the minimum. So, rationally I know we are making very good progress, etc. etc. etc.

After 7 days her mange is looking better, her eyes are pretty much cleared up, I have whacked off the worst of her toenails and her poor hacked off ears have been cleaned out (although I have never seen this much disgusting in one dog’s ears before – it is rather disturbingly impressive and at one point *gag* she shook her head and *gag* a giant chuck of ???? stuck to the wall at the vet’s office.) and in general, her nails are wearing down nicely while running around in the yard.  She is getting bathed every 2-3 days, has some disgusting sulfur goop to help keep her itching at bay, taking ivermectin on a daily basis along with supplemental vitamins and fish oil.

*smooches*