I say it every time, but that doesn’t make it any less true:
Dexcom. You’ll hate it when it’s accurate. And just as much when it’s not.
I say it every time, but that doesn’t make it any less true:
Dexcom. You’ll hate it when it’s accurate. And just as much when it’s not.
I do my best to test my blood glucose as regularly as possible – I’m told it’s the cornerstone of proper diabetes care. But, I’m human. And at times absent minded. If I’m lucky enough to enjoy a few consecutive hours of “control”, my absent mindedness often takes a stronger hold of me. Part of it is wanting to “ignore” diabetes for a bit. Live a “normal” life or something like that. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that part of me doesn’t want to disrupt the trend in case my Dexcom line is off.
With that mentality, I’m not sure how to take this.
This happened over the weekend somewhere in the middle of Day 27. Showing continued signs of deterioration, this sensor was clearly not going to surivive the weekend. But I held on, like a candle that shines brightest just before it goes out, I clung to the fantasy that I could squeeze another 24-hours out of this thing and start the new week fresh with a brand new sensor.
But then this test happened.
I’m finding that as my obsession with this line increases, the further I distance the line with the benefits of good blood glucose control. I suppose when I get my A1c every three months, I’ll come back to reality for a few minutes. But it’s more about getting the perfect picture so I can share it on every silly social network I frequent with pride while simultaneously shouting “Take That Diabetes!”
There is a small window of opportunity above your triceps and below your shoulder that your Dexcom sensor can appropriately reside. If you aim too low, your arm will let you know with a constant “pinch” whenever you move your arm in any direction. It’s not comfortable. You’ll also know that you missed the mark because your receiver will display one of the following graphs over a 12-hour period:
Previously on A Consequence of Hypoglycemia:
First things first, the transmitter. By Odin’s Beard, this thing is huge.
Now for a dose of context:
When you hear people talk about the size of the G4 (pictured left) transmitter compared to the Seven Plus (pictured right), I think it’s important to put things in proper context and understand what we’re talking about.
2 pennies. That’s what this is about.
48 hours is enough time to offer hyperbolic impressions of this thing, right? Right.
As previously mentioned, I’m going to wear out my current Seven Plus sensor while I’m in the opening stanza of my time with the G4. I think the concurrent CGM-ing will better amplify the differences between the two systems. I know some of these observations won’t mean a lot in the grand scheme of things since the Seven Plus is being phased out, but you never know who’s reading. And I want to put some thoughts down now before I fall back into the routine. Diabetes is new and exciting again thanks to the G4 – let’s celebrate.