Keeping Promises
So here I was. Standing at the top of a mountain in early January 2022 with skis strapped to my feet. A gust of cold wind blasted me from behind and I flinched. Squinting a little, my eyes kept going back to the steep slant of the ski slope in front of me. My stomach clenched and I wondered “What on earth am I doing here?” After a five-year break from skiing, I wasn’t sure I even remembered how to do this—how to ski with diabetes.
Even though I had planned and prepared for this day, things had gone off the rails quickly. My blood sugar had started out high the minute I woke up. I would have to keep a close eye on numbers all day. Shaking the discouragement out of my head, I squared my shoulders and peeked again at the slope in front of me. My husband Dave stood beside me smearing on Chapstick. Silently I held out my hand and he passed it to me. Applying a generous layer of Chapstick before handing it back, I bent my knees and bounced lightly on my skis. Pulling my goggles down over my face and pushing myself gently forward, I began to slide down the mountain.
When I started skiing more than 30 years earlier I didn’t have diabetes. Getting the diagnosis of Type 1 diabetes in 2013 at the age of 52 had been a shock. The good health I had taken for granted my whole life vanished, leaving me to learn how to manage a chronic condition. It was challenging. After the shock and fear and anger lessened, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t let diabetes limit my life or keep me from skiing. The thrill of skiing was worth every challenge and struggle and until hip replacements and Covid forced me to take a break from skiing five years ago, I made sure I went skiing every year.
As a naturally cautious person, I made lists and loaded my pockets with diabetes supplies. I had two of everything I could possibly need. In those first few years of skiing with diabetes, I didn’t have an insulin pump so I tested a lot. When I finally got a pump I devoured articles about setting a temporary basal to lower my insulin as I skied to avoid going low. I was terrified that I would drop the PDM that controlled the pump off a ski lift so I McGyvered a solution. After attaching a long string to the PDM with silver duct tape, I wore the PDM around my neck.
By the time of my 2022 ski trip, I had acquired a Dexcom sensor and it was incredibly helpful to be able to see my blood sugar numbers and trends as I skied. Although now I had to carry both the pump PDM and the Dexcom receiver, I left the string and duct tape at home and found a clear plastic crossbody bag to wear under my ski parka. With the devices staying safely inside the bag, I could press buttons and read numbers. In my pockets I carried snack bars, glucose tablets, backup test strips, and an extra insulin pump. I wore a medical alert necklace and stashed a medical alert card with my credit card and cash. Skiing behind me, I knew my husband was prepared to help if I needed anything.
Staying home is always easier. Sitting on the couch is always safer. But that isn’t how I want to live my life. Despite the risks, the unknowns, and the struggles, I want to ski, travel, take long bike rides, sleep under the stars, eat new foods, go rafting, play tennis, and say “yes” to every new thing that crosses my path. Sometimes I would make mistakes and sometimes things would go wrong but that wasn’t important. Shaking off mistakes and moving ahead was important. Life doesn’t come with an answer sheet and that is okay.
At the end of the day, my return to skiing after a five-year break ended well. On my first trip down the mountain, the skis felt like two bulky logs attached to my boots. The wind-blown snow at the top of the mountain was very slippery and I kept a death grip on my ski poles. Moving forward, I made a turn, went a few yards and made another turn, moving slowly. Some people hurtled past me while others slipped and fell to the ground. My stomach felt tight and a voice in my head kept repeating “I’m gonna fall…. I’m gonna fall.” But I didn’t fall. The second run down the mountain felt better, more natural. By the third run down the mountain, I remembered what I loved about skiing—the feeling of flying, the stunning mountain views, the brisk fresh air, the challenge of navigating the snow, the curves, the slope, and the feeling of control and mastery.
Skiing safely with diabetes was about adapting and changing until you find what works. As the sun dropped behind the mountain, we made our way home, I was sore, tired, and happy. Happy that I had kept the promise I’d made to myself nine years earlier. Diabetes hadn’t defeated me.…or kept me from skiing.