DOC

Dog Food Soup

Marker. Brand. Name. Characterization. Classification. Hallmark. Identification. Number. Stamp. Sticker. Tag. Ticket. Trademark. Type. What do these things have in common?

They are all labels. Each and every one of us makes our way in a world that is riddled by an incalculable number of labels. Everything that we interact with is dictated by some form of label.

We go to the grocery store and we make decisions about what to buy based on a number of different labels. We look at brand names, price, nutritional info, ingredients, and even if the product has an appealing design element to its packaging, and we make a decision about whether or not we want to purchase and consume it or not. Let’s face it. We would probably buy dog food and eat it if the labels passed our various conscious and subconscious criteria for consumption. I’ve seen some cans of dog food where the photo looks just as appealing as Campbell’s Chunky Soup. But don’t take my word for it…

Dog Food Soup

Seriously?! Prime cuts in gravy! And it even has an easy open top! I’m sold.

I hear my fellow people with diabetes talk about labels quite often too. Type 1. Type 2. Juvenile. Adult-onset. LADA. Overweight. Underweight. High. Low. Insulin. Pills. Pump. Pens. Pricks. Gels. Tablets. Injections. CGM. Sick. Well. Brittle. Compliant. Non-compliant. Unaware. DKA. BG. A1C.

Diabetes Beans

So let me get to the beans of it all. I don’t understand the anger that some people have with all of these labels. We live with them every single day, and we make decisions based on our understanding of labels on a near constant basis, but as soon as someone attempts to label us, makes a mistake, tries to empathize, or even tries to give advice (even if it is misguided), we get our underwear completely in a wad and pitch a fit. Ever heard any of these?

“How dare that person give me advice about MY diabetes? Telling me what I should do. They don’t know me! They can’t imagine what I have to deal with everyday!”

“How dare that person compare me to those fat, lazy people with diabetes. They chose to be that way! I didn’t choose this! This chose me!”

“Yes, I take insulin. NO! I don’t have the BAD kind of diabetes!”

“How sick am I? HOW SICK AM I?!”

There are all these things that people say that we just get so bent out of shape about. Newsflash: People are stupid. I mean, we’re smart. Sometimes. But we can be really dumb. Every single one of us. We often have no idea when we should just keep our mouths shut because we don’t have enough background information to know any better. So we say something. Sometimes with the very best intentions. And we make mistakes. And not one of us is immune to it.

Fact #1: Nobody knows your diabetes better than you. Nobody. Not even your doctor.

Fact #2: That’s okay.

We want so much to not be labeled. We don’t want to be judged. We don’t want to be considered sick. We work so hard on our diabetes, our weight, our outfit, our hair, our makeup, our jobs, our school, our families, and whatever else we define ourselves by that we get really upset when someone else doesn’t understand or appreciate what we go through and how hard we work each and every day. We get even more upset when they get it wrong.

But if you think about it, can you really blame them? They don’t know your situation anymore than you know their situation. I have to tell myself that all the time. I only know what I can see, and what that person is willing to share with me. In reality, that is only the tip of the iceberg to who that person is.

I talk to so many people with diabetes. People from all walks of life. There are always a few that have a chip on their shoulder because they are one type of diabetes and are angry at people with a different type of diabetes because they don’t want to be compared. Or maybe they are just angry themselves, and are projecting. I don’t know. I’m no psychologist.

So the Type 1 accuses the Type 2 of doing it to themselves. It’s their fault that they have Type 2 diabetes. They ate themselves into that situation, when they should get up and move around and stop being lazy. Anyone with Type 2 diabetes, it’s their own fault. And they want the two types of diabetes to be differentiated even more, calling one something completely different than the other, because it’s an absolute travesty for someone with Type 1 diabetes to be compared to someone with Type 2 diabetes.

Or maybe the Type 2 doesn’t understand why the Type 1 chooses to give themselves insulin when they could just exercise and eat better, and stop eating sugar, and not have diabetes anymore. That person with Type 1 is just lazy, and by using insulin is taking the easy way out. That person with Type 1 diabetes is such a disgrace, and it is a low down dirty shame that they are compared to the hard working Type 2’s in the world! The person with Type 2 diabetes wants the two types of diabetes to be called something completely different, because they don’t want to be compared to those self-righteous know-it-all good-for-nothing lazy Type 1’s.

The reality is that Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune problem, where the body’s immune system is attacking insulin producing cells in the pancreas, rendering the person incapable of producing insulin on their own. This is why a person with Type 1 diabetes has to take insulin via injections or a pump, because they have no way to produce it themselves, and without insulin to lower their blood glucose levels and convert carbohydrates into energy, their BG levels go sky high.

Type 2 diabetes is where the body has become insulin-resistant; it doesn’t want to process the insulin it is producing properly, resulting in higher BG’s. Yes, this can sometimes be controlled by diet and exercise, but sometimes it requires medications as well to make the cells in the body less resistant to the insulin that is being made. In some cases, a person with Type 2 diabetes has to eventually take insulin injections too, similar to a Type 1, because they can’t produce enough insulin themselves that meets the requirements of their insulin resistance.

Ready to have your mind blown? Not every person with Type 2 diabetes is overweight and lazy. Just like not every person with Type 1 diabetes got there by eating too much cake.

Cake is delicious. Don’t ruin it with diabetes.

It’s just labels. It means nothing. It doesn’t matter what can we come in, Alpo, Campbell’s, Type 1, or Type 2, we’re mostly all the same inside. We’re a little more of this, and a little less of that. Sometimes we’re better for one purpose, sometimes another. Sometimes we fit in a can perfectly, other times we’re a mixture and don’t make any sense at all.

But we’re all in this together. We don’t have to understand each other completely. We’re lucky if we understand each other a little. We do, however, have to understand that diabetes is not our fault. Forget the science. Forget the stereotypes. Forget what you think you know about diabetes. You know YOUR diabetes. If someone makes a mistake, gives you wrong information, makes assumptions about your situation, try to walk in their shoes. Maybe they are just trying to help. Maybe they are trying to make sure you don’t feel all alone. Or maybe they are the ones that don’t want to feel alone.

Or maybe they are just an a-hole. Yes, there are those people in the world too. However, I’ve found that most people are good. Most people are kind. Most people do legitimately care if you give them a chance, even if they don’t completely understand.

Be patient. Be kind. Accept that we don’t know everything, or the same things. We have much more in common than we often realize, and we’re certainly much stronger together than we are on our own. Diabetes, regardless of type, is much easier to deal with in a community of people who understand some of the nonsense of pricks and pinches and pills and possibilities.

Once you get past the labels, we’re really not so different. Kind of like dog food soup.

Low Interrupted

At first, I was thinking that I would toss out this post, or save it for later, in order to respond to the news from the Diabetes Research Institute. I know that a post like this, full of words on a screen, risks getting lost in the mix. But maybe it won’t.

If you read my last post, you know that A-Flizzle surprised me with a birthday trip to Jacksonville to tour the Budweiser brewery, hang out with Jacquie and the gang, get a massage, and go to one of my favorite restaurants in the whole wide world called 13 Gypsies. And my blood sugar spiked sky high. So now you’re caught up. As Paul Harvey would say, this is “the rest of the story.”

I’ve been sitting on this post for a few weeks now. It’s been a really hard thing for me to share. It’s the post I’ve been waiting to write for, like, 23 days.

My blood sugar was sky high, but I couldn’t very well call in diabetic and cancel a quality birthday celebration. Nor did I want to. I bolused for the high, but having been unplugged from my pump for as long as I was, there was really no telling how much insulin it would take to turn things around and get my BG’s back to normal. I knew I would need to feather the insulin over time in small doses so that I didn’t get a big ball of insulin hitting me all at once. It sounded like a good idea, at least. Until it just wasn’t working. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.

So, I did what any abnormal person with a nonfunctioning pancreas would do in the situation: I rage bolused the $h!t out of that high to show it who was boss. And I did too.

Later that night, after we had gone out to a rooftop bar and then to one of our favorite hangouts in 5 Points, Birdie’s, A-Flizzle and I trekked back to our hotel to call it a night. We settled in, I stretched out on the bed, propped my head up on a stack of pillows, and started watching one of the greatest movies of all time that just happened to be on TV that night: Con Air. What? You know you love it!

A-Flizzle was sound asleep, and I was laying there in bed messing around with my iPad and watching Cyrus the Virus battle The Man of Nomadic Eyebrows from the Land of Forgotten Forehead (aka, Nicholas Cage) for a shot at freedom via a crash landing on the Las Vegas strip (don’t blame me, I didn’t write it) when it hit me. Hard. And I remember every single part of it.

In an instant, I had absolutely no clue where I was. I couldn’t figure out what I was doing, even though I was doing nothing. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t help overanalyzing every next thought that was popping into my head, and I had no control of what was popping into my head next.

I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed. My bare feet hit the cold wooden floor. I sat there, in a complete panic, trying to figure out what was going on. I knew what was going on. I just couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. But everything was so serious. I couldn’t figure out what was happening, what was next, what I should do.

I stood up. I walked over to my BG kit, and sat it on the table. I walked off. I started pacing around the room, stomping hard, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. I could see A-Flizzle in the middle of the king size bed, sound asleep. I tried to yell for her, but I couldn’t. No sound would come out. I started hitting my diabetes tattoo, indicating, trying to make noise and get her attention. Anybody’s attention. But it wasn’t loud enough.

And that’s when it hit me: I was low. Really, really low. And I was standing in the room with the one person that I trust more than anyone, and I could not for the life of me (literally) figure out how to get her attention. What would be so simple any other time, to simply yell or reach out and shake her awake, I could not figure out how to tell my body to do. I just knew that this was really, really serious, and I had to figure out something through my garbled thoughts.

I paced around the king sized bed like a tiger walking a perimeter, establishing his territory. Back and forth, from one side to the other, for I don’t even know how long. All the while I’m trying to figure out how to wake her up. I was fading. The panic was wearing me out. I was starting to think about what A-Flizzle would do without me, and how much it would crush her to lose me when she was right there, so close. What would happen to my Hopper (dog), Squirt (cat), and Bindi (A-Flizzle’s dog) back home without me. How their little hearts would break when I didn’t come home from a weekend away. How my Hopper would continue to look for me at the door long after Amanda got home, just waiting on me to get there to give him a doggie hug.

All I could think was, “This might be the one. That one low blood sugar that I don’t survive. The big one.” I was also thinking, “Dammit, I don’t want to go to the hospital on my friggin’ birthday!” I started punching the corner of the bed because I was so frustrated that I couldn’t get my body and brain to communicate and work properly. Then I thought of big ones, like the big earthquake in California that everybody always talks of but hasn’t happened yet. The hurricane that will come and sink Florida. The importance of having an emergency plan, a parachute. A parachute? A PARACHUTE! For when I fall!

No Brain

I managed to figure out that if I passed out from the low, it was my pump that would continue to give me insulin and keep me low. I snatched it from my PJ pants pocket, and unhooked it, not bothering to suspend it, and threw it on the bed. I went over to my bag, and found the glowing bright red rectangle that contained glucagon, and held it tight in my left hand. I knew that if I passed out, A-Flizzle would likely hear me hit the floor, and hopefully see the glucagon in my hand and know what to do. If she didn’t, at least my pump was off, so hopefully I would survive long enough for my blood sugar to come back up naturally before…well, before I died.

As I was digging in my bag for that, I uncovered a Level gel. I ripped off the top with my teeth and managed to get most of the gel in my mouth through the lack of motor skills and shaking that I didn’t realize was happening. Once I got the Level gel in me, and gave it time to work, I was finally able to figure out how to reach over and wake A-Flizzle up to help me. By then I was back on the edge of the bed, drenched in sweat, shaking, still holding the glucagon case in my left hand, and completely physically and emotionally exhausted. Half asleep, her training that I taught her in case I ever go low kicked in, and she was able to retrieve two more Level gels and help me get them down before I had to lay down, else pass out from exhaustion. Still, I wasn’t up to a normal and safe BG level yet.

A-Flizzle set a timer on her phone to wake us up every 15 minutes for me to test my BG again. After an hour of that, I was still only at 70. Not too low, but certainly not high enough to go to sleep after such a bad low. I took one more Level gel, and then I was out for the rest of the night. I woke up the next morning at 96. Normal. And completely hungLOWver, worn out, physically and emotionally exhausted from the night before.

I’m thankful that I taught A-Flizzle what to do when I go low. I’m thankful that we have a plan and always know where things are to treat a low, even if half asleep. It’s so important to have something available to treat a low blood sugar, and know where it is even in your subconscious. That is what may save you in the event that you have to build your own parachute. I know it did me. It’s been extremely hard for me to admit to myself, but I know that I wouldn’t be here right now had I not had those gels, known where they were, and the fact that they were easy for me to get into when it was literally life or death for me.

Tomorrow, the DRI is set to share some big news about steps toward an eventual cure for diabetes. I really hope it is everything that we hope it will be. I’d be lying though if I didn’t admit I’m skeptical. Don’t confuse that with negativity. I’m positive that there will be a cure someday, and I’ll be the first one to celebrate tomorrow if there is something to celebrate. I’ve just heard that a cure was coming since my mother was told that there would be one when I was diagnosed at age two, 32 years ago. A cure for diabetes is exactly what every one of us with diabetes, and every parent of a child with diabetes, wants in this world. Nobody should have to see their life flash before their eyes on their birthday because of a low blood sugar like I had to. However, hoping and praying and wishing doesn’t get us closer to that day.

I’ve learned to keep myself grounded in reality. Maybe that’s a defense mechanism so that I’m not constantly let down, but experience says to be patient, diligent, and steadfast today so that we can make it to tomorrow. The absolute best thing we can do is take care of ourselves today, support each other in the diabetes community, both online and offline, and not let our fellow person with diabetes stumble. You can do this, and so can I. Then, when that cure does arrive, whether it’s tomorrow or twenty years from now, we’ll be ready.

Keep Calm And BG On

Monument Tattoos - Diabetic - 07-20-2012

D-inked

For this (sort of) Wordless Wednesday, I bring you the live tweeting and photo adventure of getting a diabetes tattoo. Big ups to Matt Manning at Monument Tattoos in Tallahassee, Florida for listening to what I was looking for and translating that into a wicked awesome piece of body art with a practical purpose. One of my low blood sugar tells is that I sometimes lose the ability to talk and communicate properly. This is especially problematic when I need to get someone’s attention and make them aware that I need a little help. The idea behind a diabetes tattoo was that it would be something that is always on me, and I could hopefully indicate (e.g., point to it, gesture at it, hit someone over the head with it) in the event that I need some assistance. And it would look awesome as sh**. Your diabetes may vary.

Monument Tattoos - Diabetic - 07-20-2012

Photo courtesy of Monument Tattoos

Friends For Life 2012

Friends For Life 2012

The world is full of both extroverts and introverts; individuals who gain energy and fulfillment through being around and engaging groups of people, as well as individuals who thrive better when they have time to themselves and are not as engaged socially.

There are all sorts of definitions and distinctions of what makes someone an extrovert or an introvert. You could take 20 personality tests and read the entire self help section of your local bookstore and still not have a clear definition of the two classifications for all situations.

For me, that is the kicker. I tend to sort of meander between extrovert and introvert depending on the situation. I love being a part of big groups, sharing information, having both normal and nonsensical discussions, and feel like I’m being included, if not leading the experience. However, I sometimes reach a point where I also need my “me” time to figure things out on my own and reflect, plan, scheme, and let my thoughts run wild without the constraints of appropriateness to the situation.

When I need to be an extrovert, I gravitate toward situations where chances are good that I will be at or near the center of attention. As an introvert, you can sometimes find me in a state of observation, quiet, seemingly on the outside looking in.

I’m like this with diabetes as well. There are times that I am perfectly comfortable wearing the proverbial tights and cape and hooker boots that make up the Super Diabetic persona (hey, it worked for Superman…don’t judge me), educating the masses about the ways of the ‘beetus, managing meals in a single bolus, calculating carb and blood sugar ratios in my head faster than a speeding bullet, and encouraging the newly diagnosed and recently overwhelmed with a healthy dose of You Can Do This.

There are also times when I don’t want to deal with my diabetes, much less try to convince other people that it is easy or that I have everything under control. Sometimes, with diabetes, it’s hard, and I suck at it. Not most of the time, thankfully, but sometimes it is overwhelming and I just need some time to reflect and figure things out.

Friends For Life 2012

This past week I was at Friends For Life 2012, which is this extrovert’s dream come true, yet there were times that I found myself reserved and low-key. I spent quite a bit of time listening and observing, sometimes clinging more to my introvert tendencies to try and figure everything out than clamoring for attention and putting my diabetes on stage and in the spotlight. This wasn’t my first Friends For Life, and I didn’t feel as if I was around strangers that I needed to figure out. I just wanted a fresh perspective, for both myself and my diabetes.

I really needed a week with people with diabetes. There is something extremely special about food buffets that have carb counts on them, not being looked at strange for whipping out a BG kit and pricking my fingers in public, and people that understand what a glucoaster is and are riding it all week right along with you.

Now that I’m back home, I’m putting together my thoughts on some things that I learned this past week. From all the things that can come with diabetes beyond just insulin, to amazing things that people with diabetes can do, to challenges with the FDA, observations of parents of children with diabetes, and even the diabetes online community in real life, I’ve got plenty to think about and share. But first, I need a night to rest after a week of staying up until the wee hours of the morning every night. After all, nobody goes to Friends For Life to catch up on sleep.

Twitter Fail Whale

Working Through It All

I’ve been busy lately. Extremely busy. Too busy. I’ve been doing all kinds of things, but without divulging my Dead Sea Scroll-length laundry list of things to do, suffice it to say that I’ve been working really hard at just trying to keep up.

From being so occupied lately, I’ve developed a bad habit of setting aside important things that make me feel better and happier, like writing on this blog and being an active member of the Diabetes Online Community (DOC), exercising, reading for leisure, getting enough sleep at night to not feel like I’ve been hit by a truck the next morning, keeping in touch with friends I care about and miss (both online and offline), and in some ways even my diabetes. I feel so out of touch, missing invites to events that I would have loved to have been a part of, missing news, and even missing out on the jokes. And I LOVE a good joke. Speaking of which, has diabetes been cured since I’ve been M.I.A.?

In addition, I can’t seem to get anywhere with my New Year’s goal of losing some weight, which just adds to my frustration. Most days I find myself completely worn out by the end of my work day, and I come home and grab the carb-heavy easy foods and try to cool my jets instead of grabbing my gym pass, the iPod, and a water bottle. By the way, I need a new iPod Nano if anyone is feeling particularly generous. No, seriously. Anybody? Bueller…Bueller…

My bicycle is sitting in my laundry room collecting dust, the spokes wrangling wayward dryer lint, taunting me each time I do a load of laundry. I can hear it whisper, “Psst! Hey, fatso! Wanna go for a ride?” My swimsuits, from board shorts to triathlon training gear, sit in the bottom of a drawer just waiting for me to slim down enough so that I can fit into them and get back into the pool without it looking like the Twitter fail whale retired to the local YMCA. Thankfully, my swimsuits know better than to make any snide comments in my general direction. I’ve already threatened to give them to the dog to play with if I hear one snotty remark out of them.

Twitter Fail Whale

I know that I’ve been missing online. I know that I’ve missed being online. I also know that sometimes there is just no extra time for much beyond the things that absolutely must be done.

So what the heck does this have to do with diabetes? Last weekend, Jacquie, her husband Bob, and Sara spent the weekend visiting with A-Flizzle and I, and it really helped me to remember what I love about our community of people. It ended up raining the entire weekend, but I still loved that we all got to hang out and spend time together. When you can hang out with people and do nothing and still have fun doing it, you know it’s a good thing.

We are so much more than just people with diabetes. We are friends, even family. I get a text from Jess late at night for no reason but to ask how I’m doing, and I smile. Sara walks in the door with a hug and says, “We’ve missed you!” and I swallow that little lump in my throat and change the subject really quick. Bob (not to be confused with Jacquie’s Bob) sends me a Twitter mention from somewhere in the middle part of the country and it reminds me that I’m missed, and I’m not alone, even when I feel like I kind of am.

I’m working through a lot of things right now. I’m processing a lot of change lately. Don’t take that negatively, a lot of the change I’m dealing with is amazingly good change, but it’s still change, and by nature we human beans are change resistant.

I know I’m dealing with a bit of depression too, but I’m not willing to truly admit it to myself. I tell myself I’m too busy to deal with that right now. I’ve got a lot going on internally about external influences, trying to process my own feelings about some things that I’ve been dealing with for awhile now, while trying to manage my anger and hurt levels on an almost daily basis.

I really have a lot on my plate with work and trying to get my career as a director of all things awesome to the next level. I also long to be a bigger voice and presence in the diabetes community. Something that I use this blog for regularly, and something that I’ve somehow veered away from, is making people laugh. I love to make people laugh, and I want to be able to laugh too. Laughter is a ginormous part of who I am, and I need it.

I’m overwhelmed with the sheer amount of things that I feel like I have to do, that I want to do, and that I need to do. Regardless, I am trying my best to work my way through it all, or at least get things to a manageable level of stress and outstanding items so as not to be so neurotic. If you don’t hear from me, or reach out and get only silence in return, don’t fret. I got the message loud and clear, and I appreciate it more than words, and I’m working my way through everything in an effort to find my way back to you all.

MTV Moon Man - CC License - Photo by Deidre Woollard

MTV True Life: I Have Diabetes…and Support

So I’m a day late, but I watched the MTV True Life: I Have Diabetes episode last night, and I have a confession… I didn’t hate it.

The first thing some folks may want to jump on is that MTV didn’t get all the facts about diabetes exactly right. Well, that is true, but they were at least playing the correct sport in the correct ballpark, so to speak. I’m starting to think that the only way to get all of the facts right about diabetes is to simply not talk about it at all. I’ve had diabetes for more than three decades, and I don’t always get all the facts right either. So there. Overall, I think MTV did a good job, and presented a group of people and a subject that folks can actually care about (as opposed to “True Life: I Scratch Myself in Inappropriate Places in Public” or “True Life: I Toot Glitter and Crap Rainbows”).

Actually, I might would watch that last example. But anyway, moving on…

I could identify the most with Kristyn, a young girl in her mid-twenties with Type 1 diabetes who is faced with the realization of the abominably high costs of living as an adult with diabetes. Pumps, pump supplies, insulin, strips, pens, pills, and any other medications that we may have to take adds up to a lot, even with insurance. Without it, it’s kind of mind blowing how much this stupid disease can cost. I can relate because right now I’m starting the research of switching insurance companies just because my own costs are slowly but surely creeping into the danger zone. Diabetes already cost me my pancreas, so I’m not really interested in it costing me an arm and a leg to go with it. (See what I did there?)

I’m really proud of Kristyn, because she’s taking control and sacrificing her independence as an adult to get control of not only her diabetes, but also the cost of living with diabetes. That is a really, really hard thing to do, and it’s admirable that she’s not accepting failure as an option, even when it seems like an uphill battle. Although her mom came across as a bit overbearing on the show, support is incredibly important for all of us, whether we have diabetes or not, and I’m glad Kristyn has that.

Yesterday, Kristyn somehow found Kim’s post about the episode, and now she is connected to several members of the Diabetes Online Community (DOC) via Twitter. I predict that it won’t be long before she is connected to more people with diabetes (PWD’s) both online and in real life, and is playing an even bigger role in our diabetes world. You read it here first.

Matt was someone else that I was a bit fascinated with. Matt is a college student, was portrayed as a party animal and heavy drinker, and also has Type 1 diabetes. Although I think Matt would do well with more support for living a high quality, action packed, totally excellent life as both a person and a person with diabetes, I wonder if he is ready. I can’t speak for everyone, but for me it was easy to catch myself judging Matt as a college kid that just doesn’t care about his life with diabetes as much as he cares about being the life of the party. I know that I like to do extreme things and have adventures, but I also enjoy feeling like I’m in control of my diabetes while I do them, and not having to choose between the two options. In my world, the two go together like peanut butter and jelly. But that’s MY world. That is what works for ME. Your diabetes, and Matt’s diabetes, may and probably does vary. There is not right or wrong…there simply is.

I would really hate for Matt to feel like he is viewed as anything less than what appeared to be a nice guy, just because he was portrayed as enjoying an alcohol-heavy college lifestyle on MTV. When the time comes that he is ready for changes that work for HIS diabetes and HIS world, or even if he just wants to reach out and say hello diabetes world, then I will be one of the first people in line to welcome and support him and celebrate life right along with him. (Matt, if you get to read this, just say when buddy.)

I really didn’t have a lot that I could relate to with Jen, as her diabetes was discovered while she was pregnant with her son. I can’t imagine how hard it is to transition from a life of taking care of yourself to a life of taking care of you AND a child. Add in having to learn how to also take care of Type 1 diabetes, and that sounds like a lot to deal with. But I know without a doubt that it is possible, and there are an army of D-Moms and PWD Moms and even just us old standard PWD’s who are out there in the world and eager to help.

If this episode of True Life did nothing else, it reminded me that any one of these struggles with diabetes could be my struggle with diabetes. I am so thankful for the people that I have met that have helped me to realize that diabetes is a big priority in my world, and I hope to show them the same compassion and understanding that they have shown me. Diabetes is hard, and it’s no joke sometimes. Having a group of amazing people to joke about it with, however, makes all the difference in the world.

MTV Moon Man - CC License - Photo by Deidre Woollard

CC License - Photo by Deidre Woollard

Rowlf and Hopper

Some Of What I Learned

Floating around various blogs, some diabetes-related, others just pure nonsense, I’ve noticed that several writers have posts that follow a particular theme at times. I’ve tried Monday Mantras, but I tend to get really busy on Monday’s and forget to do them. Or I can’t find a Sharpie pen to write with. Or my Post-Its to write on. But mostly, I just forget.

Sara over at Moments of Wonderful does this cool thing called Faith Fridays. I’m not a particularly religious person (faith, yes…religion, not so much), but I really dig what she shares because she connects it to her real life. I think that faith must have that connection to real life to have much meaning. Your ability to walk on water may vary from mine…I tend to sink pretty quick.

I know me, probably better than most people do. I know that I have a hard time doing anything on a consistent basis, with the exception of DSMA on Wednesday nights and having coffee every morning. EVERY. MORNING. I have to really be passionate about something to keep it going for a significant length of time (ahem…this blog). I also need to have the vision to see where something is going. If I can’t see the end result myself, or have it explained to me by someone, then it can be difficult to get me to buy into it. I like to dream big, and in detail. Doing something just to keep the ship afloat does me no good if I can’t envision the paradise that the ship is sailing to.

Part of having and developing a vision for the future, any future, is having curiosity and the desire to learn something new. A world where people know everything would be pretty dull. While showering (you just never know where inspiration is going to strike, I tell ya!), I thought up an idea to share some of the things that I learn each month.

Also, if you want to write a post and participate at any time, just throw in the hashtag #SOWIL (stands for Some Of What I Learned) and feel free!

Some Of What I Learned (November 2011)

  1. Daily blogging is hard to do, but doing it for National Health Blog Post Month is totally worth it.
  2. If you have diabetes, you should get gifts on World Diabetes Day.
  3. Disney World is indeed a magical place. More so if you have an A-Flizzle.
  4. If you lose your phone at Epcot (or any park at Disney World) and they tell you that it is with Lost & Found at the Front Gate, that means it’s at Magic Kingdom.
  5. The Muppets are just as lovable, fun, and relevant as they were when I was a kid. And I think they should get a weekly show, like Saturday Night Live, only Muppetier. Mahna mahna.

  6. My dog has an uncanny resemblance to Rowlf.
    Rowlf and Hopper
  7. 99% of the diabetes online community prefers kindness over meanness. Also, 47.3% of all statistics are made up on the spot. But I’m certain that 99% is a pretty close estimate.
  8. I miss having CGM data. I don’t miss stabbing myself with the harpoon and the uncomfortableness of wearing the CGM sensor. Can someone please come out with less intrusive CGM technology?
  9. Samsung and Verizon are probably the worst two companies in the world to work together to introduce new technology in a timely manner. Especially when I need a new phone, and theirs is the one that I want.