Ketones?

I’m lucky, in the way that I don’t get ketones. If I ever test them because my sugars have reached the high 20s I always have 0.3, tops.

But I was in a situation recently where my blood sugars had sat at 20 to 23 for hours, which never happens. So I tested my ketones, even though it was highly unlikely that I had any. (The reason I don’t get them is something to do with the fact that I still produce my own inuslin even though it’s only occasionally.) And for the first time ever, I was scared to see the result.

Whenever my blood sugar is high, it has always come down fairly easily, especially compared to stories I hear on Facebook groups and from my type 1 friends. I don’t remember any times that it hasn’t, even when I’m ill (which isn’t often I’m proud to say, once in the last 5 years)! So with my sugars not budging for several hours, I stared to wonder if I would have ketones.

What-ifs started running through my head. What if I did have ketones, and they were dangerously high? What if I had to go to hospital? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not scared of being admitted to hospital or hospitals in general, after all I would be in the possible place to be treated. However, I am scared of the horror stories in the type 1 diabetes world, of comas and worse.

Thankfully, after a countdown that felt like it lasted years, I only had 0.2. But someday my tiny-weeny pancreas will probably die out completely, and I would be susceptible to ketones when that eventually happens. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, but I certainly don’t look forward to it.

"We’re sooooaaaaaaring, Fllllllyyyyyyyyiiiiiing"

(Yes, I was a High School Musical fan when I was younger!)

So. I’m off to Majorca! I’m going with my mum, grandma and aunt. It’ll be a nice, relaxing, beach holiday during which I can concentrate on my currently non-existent tan. (I’m hoping that I don’t return looking like a lobster!)

But before we even get onto the gorgeous island, actually leaving my own country proves a tad more difficult as a diabetic than as your average traveller. Attempting to get your life-saving, hypo-treating lucosade and your life-saving, instead-of-an-important-organ insulin through security is an absolute nightmare. The last time I flew, a few months ago, we ended up being marched around the airport (even though we had a letter from my hospital) by some patronising manager on the hunt for 380ml bottles of lucosade (of which there were none!) because apparently “we could buy all we needed in the airport”.

Thankfully this trip through security went a lot more smoothly, because we had a letter from gatwick themselves apologising for the last trip through security and it stated we could take my lucosade through! So I got the full pay down as per usual (I haven’t gone through an X-ray scanner doorway thingy for YEARS because of my insulin pump) and off we trotted into the terminal to go shopping.

Last night my grandma called, in middle of booking special assistance for my aunt because of joint problems, asking whether I would like to be booked in too. I was stood there shaking my shaking my head like a lunatic going ‘NOOOO. I AMNOT INCAPABLE  OF WALKING!’ so I of course I was booked in for special assistance with my aunt. I have to say it was rather fun!

Me and my aunt (my mum tagged along with us but my grandma had to walk!!) got a ride on a ‘beep beep’ with another couple. A ‘beep beep’ being a slow moving cart thing. A VERY slow moving cart thing. We actually had to wear seat belts, not that we needed them!

Then when we reached the gate we were immediately transferred into our own private little minibus! We’d increased in numbers, with a total of 7 people now. We travelled round to the airplane sat on the Tarmac (the peasants went by big cramped bus) and we all sat there a few minutes. Us lot on our spacious minibus were then asked whether we would like to get into the plane by stairs or ambulance. So we all ended up on a truck which they’d named an ambulance (it was nothing like the emergency ambulances you find in the UK normally)! After being penned in whilst stood on a fancy piece of metal that took us up to the truck bit itself we sat in this ambulance/truck and eventually proceeded into the aircraft after being boosted up another few metres. It was definitely an experience and a half.

Once we’d got onto the plane I got to use one of my pump’s new exciting features again! Aeroplane mode. (Airplane? Aeroplane? Thought I’d use both in this post just to be sure!) But sadly it means that my CGM doesn’t track:( My blood sugars don’t usually get affected by flying but hypos just love to surprise me when I’m without CGM.

So today was a bit of a different airport experience, but I’m on the plane and on my way to Majorca which is the part that matters!

        ^^^The fancy bit of metal^^^

     ^^^Saying goodbye to England^^^