Thanks to Janice, our relationship with our basal programs and carb ratios last, on average, four days. Apparently she likes to keep things fresh and leave us guessing. Nice work, Janice.
One strategy I use to tame Janice into kindasorta-submission is to monitor Madeline’s carbohydrate intake. No, I don’t usually let her eat whatever she wants all day long and cover it with insulin. I try hard to offer her palatable choices and to balance out her carb intake over the course of the entire day. As a family, our clean eating journey started over five years ago, but those pesky grains and sugars still make it to our plates from time to time. Go figure that it’s my child with T1D who has proven to be the most difficult to woo onto the Clean Eating Wagon.
Madeline has learned a great deal about how particular carbs affect her body… not just her glucose level but her sense of feeling well. Over time, her experiences have led her to avoid pizza (well, unless it’s Bertucci’s in Boston, in which case we all cave in). We cut out pasta way back, but she has pined for it like a long lost friend. So last week, when my husband and son were away on a trip, I decided to indulge both of my daughters’ dinner requests for pasta. I was secretly hoping they’d realize it was not as delicious as they thought it would be.
What a nightmare this has been, this pasta adventure. Even worse than pizza, those noodles pushed Madeline’s glucose level into the 400s for hours, in spite set changes, boluses by syringe, and crazy high temporary basal rates (read: 2.8u per hour). It’s impact nearly ruined her sleepover plans and left her in a very.foul.mood. And now, days later, we are left with the lasting effect in the form of full blown insulin resistance. Madeline came to her own conclusion: Ain’t no Prince worth this amount of pain.
(Now… will she ever torture herself with pasta or pizza in the future? Of course she will. Janice, with her buddies Adolescence and Headstrong, will see to that.)