I’m too smart for my own good.
I like to figure out how things work. I (humorously) call myself a “reverse engineer”. And I’m very, very good at debugging, that is, tracking down elusive problems in computer code.
Unfortunately, this makes me overconfident when it comes to diabetes. For one thing, computer programs are predictable. If you do the same thing twice, you get the same result (roughly speaking). If you find a problem, you fix it. And it stays fixed.
Mathematics was one of my majors at Uni, so I can kick the arse of graphs and probabilities. Although, like a lot of highly technical thinkers, I have a distinct lack of common sense.
This all makes me an idiot when it comes to diabetes.
I have a confession. Since going back on Afrezza a week ago, things haven’t been at all consistent. Yes, it kicks in faster than Chuck Norris, but where my sugar ends up several hours down the track wasn’t consistent. I considered plenty of reasons this might be the case, including an adjustment phase, learning how to dose again, changing basal needs, etc.
In the meantime, I went to a diabetes expo telling anyone who would listen how awesome Afrezza was. The morning of that day my sugars were sweeet (pardon the pun) but in the evening things didn’t work out so well, nor the next morning, and I was left with a sinking feeling that I was evangelising about something that didn’t work.
A few more days of fantastic interspersed with no-better-than-NovoRapid, and I started to regret ordering a large, prohibitvely expensive supply of the stuff.
And today, it finally hit me. I had just pulled my old Afrezza carry-box out of the cupboard, and started puffing. I got the usual Chuck Norris kick-in, and thought nothing more of it. As I went on, I pulled more Afrezza out of the fridge and dumped it in my carry box.
Yeah. Along with the old stuff.
Yeah. The stuff that had been sitting in a cupboard for over a year plus the stuff that had been sitting in the fridge for over a year. In the same box. I was puffing them at random, like those high school maths questions about pulling marbles out of a bag.
Whether eliminating this problem will make my Afrezza rave-worthy remains to be seen. I’m biting my nails to be honest. I want so badly for this to make my life better. I want so badly for this to make others’ lives better.
Part of what happened this time was that I was subconsciously intending to use every last unit of Afrezza, because of the cost. So, first the ones in my box, then the ones in the fridge, then my new supply. I didn’t really think any further.
I’m sure anyone would tell me that year-old medication stored in a cupboard out of its original packaging was probably best thrown out. It’s common sense. Even if Afrezza is remarkably temperature-stable (watch Matt Bendall’s video!)
Argh. Gaffe of the century! But you know what? Feeling stupid does nothing but take us backwards.
This wasn’t a mistake. It was a success. We should feel excited when we find patterns, causes, solutions, even if we feel that we should have realised months, even years ago.
Also, there are mistakes we make over and over and we get furious with ourselves for making them once again. Fury only makes us more stressed. Self-loathing creates a self-fulfilling view of yourself. A much better reaction is to calmly work out how to reduce the mistake in future. Another great reaction is to simply embrace it—you will make the mistake sometimes, and it’s OK because there are plenty of other things you can focus on to improve your diabetes management.
I called myself an idiot earlier in this post—because it’s something people can identify with. Diabetes gives us plenty of reasons to feel that way. But it’s not a healthy way to see yourself. I hope my gaffe will help remind you that diabetes is about little wins each day, rather than endless failures. Because even when there are seemingly preventable problems like this one, we don’t have time to stop and think constantly.
There are other problems that arise from my skills and confidence—but they’re stories for future posts.