Without Direction

I was running late. I know the ride takes me about an hour twenty, if I get a good run of lights. But I will be cutting it very fine. Put the pressure on, keep the speed up, and minimise my trademark arrival. At least don't be TOO late. I feel bad for leaving work so late, but there is not much I can do about it now. That STUPID woman at the bike lock up didn't help my mood either. Can you believe she had her bike lock touching my bike? Can you believe that? I was sooo angry I stood in shock as I went to collect my bike and watched her show blatant disrespect for the precious vehicles surrounding her crappy bike and bike basket. I was still standing in shock when, to my utter astonishment, she unlocked her bike and let her big, clumsy, bulky and ultimately dorky lock rub against my frame again. 'Hey!' I screamed at her. 'What are you doing???!!' Gosh, the cheek of some people. I rode off sooo angry, trying to think of good comments to direct her way. It wasn't until I was past Richmond that I thought of, 'I don't even know you. What have I done to you to deserve such disrespect to my bike?'

Now, I am still running late and still fuming at the stupid, innocent woman. Stupid stupid. Stupid. Grrrr. And I am still late. I know this route and know when I should be reaching the next landmark and by what time. But I am slower than normal. This infuriates me even more. It must be the bike. The stupid, slow, brand new bike. Much much lighter and in better working condition that old Harry, my steel frame. I spent how much money on this bike and it is going so slow? Stupid stupid bike. Stupid! What a waste. I am going to get rid of this bike as soon as I can. It is way too slow and is making me more late. More swearing at the stupid bike. I get over the last major rise and hit the downhill. A few bumps on the road, which is normal, and I shake a little from the vibrations. The shaking gets worse. It becomes sporadic, uncontrollable and violent. I am riding down hill alongside peak hour traffic travelling at 80km/h. Three lanes of it full, right next to me. And I am in seizure. I look to find somewhere to pull over, but I can't. I can't find anywhere safe, nor can I control what is happening to me. I move into the middle of the lane. Now I have two lanes of traffic travelling at 80km/h next to me, and one lane of traffic on my tail getting angry at being slowed. I continue to spasm. Each jolt sends the bike sideways. I am hanging on for dear life but my hands are untrustworthy. Their grasp loosens with each uncontrolled jerk that hits my body all over. I start to yell. It is a yell of pure fear. I don't know how this will end. But I just want it to end.
I see an exit lane ahead and, moving with the flow of the traffic, pull off to the left. Here, there is some gravel and room for me to exit the road. Seeing an escape plan, I pull onto the gravel. Whether or not this was planned I am not sure. I know I didn't intend to crash anyway. I feel the bike bounce into the air.
There is a person standing over me. He asks if I am okay. 'Yeah, I just need some sugar. I am diabetic' I reply. I figure he was following me in his car and pulled quickly over and was at my side within about 2 seconds. Not so. He saw me on the side of the road and thought I was a victim of a hit and run. A lot more time had passed, apparantly. More questions, but the brain isn't processing them. Someone else calls an ambulance. A woman who witnessed me riding along in seizure ordered her friend to turn the car around and track me down. She is a nurse. How she recognised I was in need of such help, and why she decided to drastically alter her plans for the evening surpasses me.
The ambos arrive, my friend is called and picks me up, I eat more, and I am okay. But immensley shaken from the experience which haunts me to this day.

That was my first ever seizure on the bike, November 2005. Each time I recall it, I shudder and hope that I will not, ever, experience this again.

But, since Nov 2005 I unfortunately have. Too many times.

In 2007, during the lead up to my first trip to the US to ride with Team Type 1, I experienced another five seizures on the bike. I had another after returning from that trip. Six seizures in one year. Not good.
In 2008 I just had the one.

Why the reduction between 2007 and 2008? Two main reasons:

1) I decided to adopt a new pre-ride testing regime. Test twice before exercise. I use this mantra all the time, and believe it is very good (but not fail proof) insurance against sudden drops in glucose levels. Had I tested twice before my first seizure on the bike, I would have known I was dropping low before I got on the bike. In fact, my irrational anger at some poor commuter was proof that I was already low. Being on your own when riding and training leaves you far more susceptible to NOT detecting these differences, including change of power and pace. Testing twice before you start tells you what you need to change to make sure you are in the right direction from the get-go. What happens next is up to your experience and proper planning. Running late doesn't help either.
2) The use of the Freestyle Navigator. This is a continuous glucose monitor that tracks changes in glucose every minute. It sends this information to a pager-like device that sits nicely in your cycling pocket. It also tracks changes in glucose and can warn you when things are going downhill rapidly.
With this product I have been able to train much more effectively, and with confidence. It has also been the major reason why I have avoided seizures when on the bike. To me, I can't train effectively without it.
I have never had a seizure while wearing the Navigator. As I wore it for a lot of 2008, I attribute the drop in seizures to wearing this product. The one seizure I did have, I was without the Navigator.

Unfortunately, for the entire year so far I have been unable to wear a Navigator.

I do most of my training on my own. Without the Navigator, I am left with two choices: stop to test and impact my training efficiency, or, reduce my training and avoid going hard on my own and therefore my susceptibility to periods of lowness. In recent weeks, with my fear increasing somewhat, I have chosen the latter.

I am so fearful of having a seizure on the bike it isn't funny. So, for the last four months I have desperately tried to replace my broken Navigator. It has been a total nightmare process, with from my end and being a long way away, a sense of dodgy assistance, sarcastic customer service representatives, lack of response from their management, and the general appearance that my case is too hard, and therefore there is little motivation to provide any real help. I tried various sources to help me out, each with their own little issue. Finally I sought higher intervention and got some assistance. A replacement Navigator was on its way. Or so I thought. As it turns out, it can only be distributed to an address in the US. So, I provide the address and the product is sent out. I then requested that the product be sent out from this US address to Australia, where I am, as soon as possible. This was three weeks ago. I have still not seen anything.

Tonight while out training I had another extreme low. I was doing hill efforts and after each one returning to the bottom of the hill, where my testing equipment was stored in the car. I went low, badly. There was no reason to suggest I would go so low. I would say it would be a flow on effect from yesterday's hit out. Luckily, Ewin was there to help me out and notice the slump in power output.

I am in serious need of direction. It is almost an Occupational Health and Safety issue in racing for Team Type 1. I just hope the mail brings me a good news package on Monday. I am reluctant to ride hard until then.



And.... Happy 11th Diabetes Day to me! April 17.

Oh, and one final addendum to this post: to help reduce comment weirdness, it would be wonderful if you left your name. Ta!