Grateful to Celebrate

Yesterday was my 5th anniversary of being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  Given that fact, I probably didn't "celebrate" in the way I should have.  I didn't have anything truly "bolus worthy" like a cupcake, nor did I really make a big deal out of it other than a Twitter update.  In fact, yesterday was more reflective than anything, surrounded by my normal Sunday activities--church, laundry, and some light Christmas shopping. 

Thinking back to that day, more than anything I'm extremely grateful.  I'm grateful that I made it through diabetic ketoacidosis and surviving a blood sugar above 1400 mg/dL.  I'm grateful that I've avoided any complications to date, even if my diabetes is still young--I will continue to celebrate that fact as long as it's true.  I'm grateful that I've managed this disease on my own from the very beginning with an average A1c of 6.5%.  I'm grateful that I haven't let this disease define who I am, and never will. 

Diabetes is hard and diabetes sucks, big time!  I've certainly had my breakdown moments, like when I threw my CGM across the room when I was over 400 mg/dL (thank you, bad insulin).  And I don't want to count the number of times I've gone to bed crying into my husband's arms because of a stupid number.  These moments happen and will happen again, and I've learned that they need to happen because it's my nature to be emotional and let things blow once in awhile.  I can't be ashamed of my tears, because they remind me that I need to rely on God. 

I hope to be here another 50 years with this disease.  Maybe there will be a cure, maybe not.  Personally, I'm not holding my breath.  Right now, I just want to celebrate the fact that I AM HERE, when I shouldn't be.  So many things in this life don't matter.  But those that do matter, I want to celebrate.  I want to celebrate my family who poured over me in love in those first few weeks after my diagnosis.  I want to celebrate my wonderful husband whose arms are the safest place in the world.  I want to celebrate my friends and everyone in the DOC. 

I want to celebrate simply because I can, and that's something worth celebrating. 

Diabetic Nightmares

Shortly after I was diagnosed, I had a nightmare that involved diabetes.  I dreamed that I had snuck out in the middle of the night to go to a bar.  But not just any bar, a bar that served nothing but CAKES!  I remember being drawn to this one in particular, an Oreo cake--a circular white cake with Oreo cookie crumbles all over it.  I felt guilty for even being there, being diabetic and all.  Even though I was told at my first meeting with my CDE that I could have cake, as long as I take insulin for it.  Diabetes was taking over my subconscious!  

And last night, I had another nightmare.  I dreamed that I sat down at a nice Italian restaurant when Constance starting blaring at me that I was HIGH.  I went to the bathroom to check and apparently I was so high that my ketone strips started BEEEEEEEPing, as well!  I tried to discretely walk back to my table, but my CGM kept beeping and I felt like crap (in my dream).  I remember thinking I didn't care how high I was, I was going to enjoy my big bowl of pasta and would deal with the consequences later. I was relieved when I woke up this morning to find out I was a little low, 65 mg/dL. 

Has this ever happened to anyone else?!  Please tell me so that I don't feel like a complete looney.  Diabetes seems to be at the center of my attention every waking moment.  But does it have to be so in my sleep, too?! 

Identify Yourself

As I mentioned in my post last week, my first medical ID bracelet broke when it got caught on a loose string.  Here is the broken bracelet:

You can see the broken lobster clasp in the upper right corner. 

So I got online that night to order a new one.  Why the urgency to buy another bracelet?  I know some diabetics wear a medical ID, some don't, and some rely on their insulin pump to be their ID.  My mom ordered my first ID before I even got out of the hospital, so she obviously believed in the power of the medical ID.  And I can't count how many times I've heard of car wrecks where the driver experienced "diabetic symptoms" (as the radio announcer calls it). 

But what really put me over the edge to have a medical ID at all times is a conversation I had with an EMT friend last year.  He noticed my bracelet and praised me for being responsible for wearing one.  I honestly asked him if wearing this thing was even worth it, or was I wasting good wrist space for a cuter piece of jewelry.  "Oh no," he said, "It's definitely worth it, especially if you wear it on your wrist.  If you're debilitated, an EMT will check your pulse on your wrists' first as part of a vitals check.  And if they see you have a chronic disease that could be contributing to you being out of it, the faster we can treat you."

So there you have it, from the mouth of the one person or party who would actually use my medical ID.  It's worth it.  By far, it's the cheapest life-saving device you can buy. 

But that doesn't mean my medical ID can't be cute, either.  So back to my online hunt.  I wanted an ID that would be cute but also obviously a medical ID.  I eventually stumbled upon StickyJ where I found pretty decently priced IDs with a plethora of bracelet options.  I settled on a heart-shaped charm with my full name on the front and my conditions on the back. 

I have diabetes in my heart. 

I wear this ID at all times, even during softball games when we're technically not supposed to wear any jewelry.  No one's ever given me trouble about it, but I will argue that this is not a piece of jewelry to me.  This small piece of sterling silver is just as vital as my insulin pump or CGM in my diabetes management. 

I try to tell as many people as I can that I'm diabetic when safety situations call for it (like my spinning instructor, softball coach, and lab coordinator), but this bracelet would be able to tell the world when I can't. 

Freakin' Out!!!

I have a confession to make:  I'm not the most graceful, organized person (please contain your shock), especially when I'm stressed.  And when it comes to the devices of technology that I rely on to keep me alive, I am particularly anxious.  If one of them goes missing, I pretty much become a basket case. 

Yesterday I started a new project at work, which wouldn't be an incredibly stressful thing except I also had my first softball game yesterday.  So I was at a new place and out of my routine--something that diabetics thrive on.  I had already missed my afternoon snack, sending me low in the middle of a lab test, so I was already frazzled.  With 15 minutes left before I needed to leave, I went to the bathroom to change from my work clothes to my softball clothes. 

I was wearing a really pretty peasant dress yesterday that had no pockets.  Arnold was securely tucked away in my undergarments, but Constance would switch from my purse to my jacket pocket so I could keep an eye on her.  In my hurry to get dressed, I put Constance in my shorts pocket when my medical ID got caught on a loose string.  I pulled with one, swift jerking motion and *SNAP* the lobster clasp broke.  "Fantastic!" I sarcastically retorted.  I had this bracelet since my diagnosis, so it was bittersweet to know it was broken (even though it was still sporting my maiden name).  I threw my broken bracelet into my bag, threw my hair into a ponytail, and headed out to my car. 

I called Trey on the way, and he asked if I was going to eat before my game at 6 PM.  "I'm stopping at a gas station right now to get a candy bar or something."  I was about to get out of my car when I reached for Constance in my pocket . . . except she wasn't there!  "Nooooooo . . ." I whispered.  I immediately freaked!  I frantically started going through my gym bag, purse, jacket where she hung out most of the day.  I got out of the car and thoroughly inspected underneath the passenger and driver's seats.  I forgot the candy bar and jumped back in my car headed back to the lab where I just came from.

 I ran back to the lab the same way I came out, scanning the parking lot for my black-colored egg, starting my Easter celebrations early.  I went back to the bathroom where I got dressed and got on the floor looking for my trusty CGM.  I made 2 more loops around the parking lot (I considered this my "warming up" for the game) before giving up and deciding that my poor little CGM was lost somewhere in a dark place, crying and BEEEEEEEPing for me to find her.  I fell back in my car, exhausted and crying, I kept saying "No, no, no!!!" over and over. 

I was already considering making some of these. 

I immediately called Dexcom and inquired how much a new receiver would be.  They told me that since my receiver was still under warranty that I would only have to pay half of its normal value (just FYI if you've ever wondered).  I decided to wait on ordering another one because I'm not the greatest at finding things, especially when I'm running late/stressed/tears running down my face.  I told myself I would wait until I got home and Trey and I could take apart the car together. 

I parked at the softball fields, already running 10 minutes late, I decided to go through the car one. more. time.  I go through my gym bag, purse, and jacket on the passenger's side as well as looking underneath the seat (also note to self:  Holly, clean your car!  Pretty sure I interrupted some dust mites having dinner).  Then I go over to the driver's seat and looked between the seat and the center console . . . and there she was, neatly tucked between the seat belt clasp and the center console department.  I could barely see the familiar opening where the charger cable plugs into.  It was as if I put her there on purpose.  

I pushed my monstrous hands (yes, for a girl, I have big hands) pass the seat and grab my long-lost CGM and actually kissed it!  "Thank you!" I said as a prayer back to God for the many, many "Please help me find it!"s I said on the way to the ballpark.  I breathed a sigh of relief and headed to the field, contemplating using duct tape to tape the receiver to my leg.  Constance showed that I was 153 mg/dL headed straight up (hello, stress). 

So I ended up having a great game, including scoring a nice welt on my left leg from a slide.  I went home and Trey and I ordered me a new medical ID.  All the while I kept patting my pocket every 5 minutes seconds to make sure that Constance didn't decide to fall out again. 

Little Close to Home

This post discusses the movie Soul Surfer that came out this past weekend.  Thus, it may contain some spoilers that may or may not reduce your own personal enjoyment of the film.  You've been WARNED!!! 

This past weekend was the best weekend I've had all year.  Mexican dinner Friday night with friends, dog park on Saturday followed by a steak dinner at home while watching The Town (excellent movie!), and Sunday was church followed by a matinee movie.  The movie we saw was Soul Surfer--the story of pro-surfer Bethany Hamilton who lost her left arm in a shark attack when she was 13-years-old.

I was initially drawn to this movie because of Bethany's outspokenness about her faith, something that I struggle with all the time.  While I'm definitely not a pro-surfer, there was one scene in the movie that felt eerily close to me.  The day after the shark attack, Bethany is laying in the hospital bed with her dad sitting in the chair next to her.  She wakes up and notices her dad crying and she tells him, "Dad, don't cry."   Her dad covers his face and says, "I'm not crying."  Yeah, right.

That scene took me back to that hospital room in early December 2006 when my dad walked into the room, took one look at me, and turned around to cover his face.  "I'm OK, Dad.  Don't cry."  It didn't matter, though, because my dad had already lost it.  I'm pretty sure I looked like death with a tube in my nose, IVs in my arm, and hair that hadn't been washed in 3 days.  My dad drove 5 hours to see his daughter like this, a hard site for sure. 

After watching Soul Surfer, I got to see my diagnosis from the point of view of my loved ones.  I could never imagine how Trey felt when he had to carry my lifeless body to the hospital after I had collapsed into DKA.  I can't imagine what my parents thought when they saw me giving myself shots, wanting to help, but not wanting to interfere because they knew I had to do this on my own . . . for the rest of my life.  I never knew how many countless prayers and phone calls were made on my behalf.  I never knew or saw the worry; I was just trying to recover.  But Soul Surfer brought me to the other side, and watching it was almost too much.

What really struck me about Bethany was her constant positive attitude.  Only once did she get frustrated and give up on surfing, but it was for a short while.  She gave God the glory to the fact that she was still alive and was given the public platform of professional surfing to give hope and inspiration to countless others.  She took her tragedy and turned it into her testimony.

I'll probably never have the platform that Bethany has, but I still wonder how my having diabetes is supposed to fit into my testimony.  I've written how having diabetes makes my soul stronger, but how can I use that for God's glory?  Other than this blog, I haven't really shared how my diabetes and faith fit together.  But I definitely feel a kinship to Bethany because we both lost something.  Her loss is more evident, whereas mine is invisible.  Her positivity, even through her actress playing her character, was infectious and I hope I can be as much of an inspiration as she is.

Goodbye, Constance v1.0

Sunday morning after church, Trey and I headed to Target to get the things we needed for our Valentine's Dinner at home (which was awesome, by the way!).  As soon as we got in the car, Constance was blaring from my pocket like she was just being turned on.  "Holy random restart!" I said.  This was the 3rd time in twelve hours that she had voluntarily restarted herself.  She always got back on track when she came back on, but it was still weird, loud, and inconvenient. 

Halfway through our Target trip, she let out a loud, long shriek like she was screaming out her last breath.  I look down saw this weird error message:

The low prices were to die for!  *wah wah wah*

So I called Dexcom and before I could get to the 4th character in the error message they said, "Oh yeah, that's a hardware error.  We'll overnight you a new receiver."  Apparently, this error message is not all that uncommon.  I confirmed this with some conversations with my Twitter D-peeps yesterday. 

I've kept my sensor in my abdomen during this time because it was still going strong before Constance died, so I'd like to already have a "wet" sensor when my new receiver comes this afternoon.  And it's been a little weird going without a CGM these past two days after being a "real-time" diabetic for the past 7 months.  And it's been nice to not have that constant reminder that I'm diabetic or the incessant BEEEEEEEPing. 

But it didn't take long to remind me why I wanted a CGM in the first place.  I had to mentally take stock of how I felt anytime I had the urge to reach for my phantom CGM.  I was reminded of the cartoon flyer I received when I got out of the hospital, explaining the symptoms of hypoglycemia: 

I'm pretty sure this is in every "diagnosis packet". 

I started to develop what I call "Low-CD", which basically means having OCD anxiety about going low.  Anytime I had one of these symptoms, I wanted to check.  I was quickly running out of test strips (and patience).  One time I was sure I was low, but a test proved me wrong at 128 mg/dL.  Now, it could have been that I was falling from a higher BG, thus prompting some mild low symptoms.  It's for this reason that I want my CGM back, regardless of the constant BEEEEEEEPing. 

Celebrating Us

Long before we were married, and even before diabetes entered the picture, Trey and I were just two broke college students.  For our first Valentine's Day as a couple, we ordered a pizza from our college meal plan and watched a Disney movie in his dorm.  We continued that tradition yesterday by ordering a large pizza with bacon and mushroom.  Our life is not so simple nowadays with both of us working engineering jobs, remodeling a house, and keeping up with 4 animals running around our house.  But I still love the simple ways we say, "I love you." 

Said dorm room. 

We both lean towards the "geek" side of the personality spectrum, and so for Valentine's Day I'd like to dig up a poem I sent to him on Valentine's Day four years ago. 

Love song for Geeks and Engineers. (Author Unknown)

I was alone and all was dark
Beneath me and above
My life was full of volts and amps
...But not the spark of love

But now that you are here with me
My heart is overjoyed
You turn the square of my heart
Into a sinusoid

You load things from my memory
Onto my system's bus
My life was once assembly code
Now it's C++

I love the way you solder things
My circuits you can fix
The voltage across your diode is
much more than just point six

With your amps and resistors
You have built my integrator
I cannot survive without you
You are my function generator

You have charged my life, increased my gain
And made my maths discreet
And now I'll end my poem here
Control, Alt, and Delete.

 

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

Daily Bread

My favorite verse in the entire Bible is Matthew 6:34 (Jesus speaking),

³⁴ Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

I first fell in love with this verse when I was in college.  I was overwhelmed by a 19-hour class schedule while working a part-time job on campus.  I used this verse as inspiration to get things done that I could get done on that day, only.  If I started thinking about the future, getting a job, hopefully marrying my boyfriend, etc., I would get stressed out.  I had to bring my focus back to today, and only today.  

Then, at 22-years-old, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes through a DKA and hospitalization.  This disease requires constant, daily (sometime hourly) attention.  It doesn't sleep, and sometimes keeps me from sleeping.  One good day could be immediately followed by a bad one (Hello, my most recent weekend).  That variability frustrates me so much that I sometimes throw Constance across the room and fall on the floor in tears.  I don't have the strength to handle this disease every. single. day.  

I'm currently trying to read through the Bible in one year, and right now I am in Exodus.  I'm at the part after the Israelites have left Egypt and begin wondering through the desert.  They become restless at the lack of food, so Moses goes to God on their behalf asking Him to provide.  God provides them with something called manna or "bread of Heaven", which is described as a wafer with honey flavor (yum).  The only rule that God gave them was that they could only eat the manna they were given for that day.  If they tried to store the manna for the next day, it would sour and grow worms (eww).  

I thought about this "daily bread" story and how it deals with diabetes.  My ultimate goals with this disease are to successfully have as many children as my husband and I decide (not diabetes) and live long enough to see our 50th wedding anniversary.  Those are the only two things that I selfishly want, and I admit that.  And I know I'm not guaranteed those things, but I still want them.  But thinking about trying to maintain an A1c under 6.5 for 9 months while handling intense hormone swings already has me exhausted.  And trying to make it over 50 years with diabetes without any complications is going to be a major statistical feat.  My goals are not unreachable, but I feel too weak to even try.  

But I do have the energy to handle diabetes today, no matter ITS mood.  And sometimes I need to have enough energy to handle diabetes this hour, even the next 30 minutes after treating a low.  When I have a reading over 300 mg/dL, my immediate reaction is to do a correction no matter my IOB and crank up my basal to 200%.  I want to come down ASAP because my mind immediately goes to that dreaded c-word, "complications".  It's so hard to take the emotions out of my sliding scale formula.  

I am so weak, and this disease trains the life out of me (literally).  But I have learned to cherish today, and lean on others to help me through like my husband, my pets, the DOC, and my Lord.  My only hope is that this post helps someone out there, because after Kerri's PostSecret post I know there are plenty of people who feel drained by this disease, too. 

Calgon, Take Me . . . to Low Blood Sugars?

Last night, I had the rare opportunity of having an hour of nothing to do (what?!).  So I decided to use the occasion to take a bubble bath using my lavender-scented body wash and bath salts.   I tuned my iPod to my favorite radio station, and cranked the water to one degree below boiling, just how I like it.  And I enjoyed having the hour to myself (oh and Elvis the cat, who decided to hang out on toilet next to the tub.  totally.  awkward.). 

After I was done, I went into the living room to catch up on a little Facebook stalking before bed.  But before I could sit down on the couch, Constance was bzzzzzzing from my robe pocket.  "Low BG.  70 mg/dL" with a southeast arrow.  Then I finally took stock of how I felt:  racing heart, maybe sweaty but couldn't tell from just getting out of the tub, kinda fuzzy in the mind.  So I made a glass of milk and grabbed some Elf Fudge cookies before taking to Twitter to discuss this phenomenon. 

This isn't the first time that a hot bath or shower has induced a low blood sugar.  It could be the temperature of the water, which is well above my body temperature.  So, I'm basically boiling myself like a lobster, causing my heart to race--possibly causing the hypoglycemia?  You'd think being disconnected from Arnold for over an hour would have the opposite effect. 

Like this?

When I was first diagnosed, my mom (a nurse for 30+ years) told me that hanging out in the hot tub helps my dad (T2) with his blood sugar.  So, guess where I was the first 3 weeks of my diagnosis?  Do you think purchasing a hot tub could be written off as medical equipment?  (A girl can dream, right?) 

So has anyone else experienced this hypoglycemia phenomenon or managed to harness its power for good?  Like taking a bubble bath when having a stubborn high?  Or hanging out in the hot tub while eating pizza instead of taking a bolus?  The possibilities are endless! 

But regardless, I like Dayle's response.  "still waiting for my endo to prescribe more bubble baths! ;-)"  Me, too, Dayle.  Me too.  

iWorkout @ Home

I feel like I've talked a lot about food here at A&M, but not a lot about exercise.  That's because my exercise regimen was pretty much nothing in 2010.  And I still haven't really established a "routine", but I do want to keep a schedule of working out at least every other day. 

The only time I've ever had a consistent workout routine (other than softball) was pre-D.  My college sophomore roommate and I liked to do these walking videos first thing in the morning.  We liked doing the 2-mile workout, which was 30 minutes of walking, kicking, and shuffling while carrying weights.  It was the perfect workout to do for two busy college students.  But after we moved out of that dorm room, so went the workout regimen (even though I was the holder of the tapes, meh). 

I've always liked working out at home for several reasons: 

• I can wear whatever I want!  Including my My Little Pony pajama pants and my ratty softball jersey.  No need to buy a whole wardrobe of workout clothing to wear at the gym.  I can go straight from waking up to working out. 
• No gym membership costs.  Yes, you have to buy the initial home equipment or videos, but I can stay on one video or game for several months before I get bored with it.  So I'm spending roughly $20 every 6 months rather than $30-$50/month at a gym. (See also:  Holly is cheap.) 
• Low blood sugar treaters close at hand.  This is strictly a diabetes thing, but I like working out at home because I know exactly where my juice boxes or glucose tabs are located.  If I go to a gym, it's like packing for a vacation.  I have to make sure I have extra juice or glucose tabs, syringes, meter, etc. 

I'm sure for every pro that I come up with for working out at home, there is a con.  "You'll be held more accountable to working out if you're paying for it."  "A gym trainer can help you figure out why you're not losing weight."  "Workout clothes are soooooooo cute!"  All I can say is that I feel more comfortable working out at home, trying to do the tree pose by myself, awkwardly, in my own living room.  Oh yeah, another pro, no embarrassing moments of frustration by comparing yourself to the perfect physique next to you.

Enter Wii Fit Plus!  I had the Wii Fit for 2 years and worked out with it, opening all the advanced games and routines.  I was getting bored with it, especially the aerobic routines, so I upgraded to Wii Fit Plus.  It has the same workouts as the regular Wii Fit, but with more games and a feature where you can set up your own routines.  I love the My Wii Fit feature because you can select what areas you want to workout in (i.e. arms & shoulders, legs, posture, aerobic, etc.) and it automatically goes through selected workouts in those areas!  No need to go back and forth between the yoga, strength training, or aerobic "rooms".  You keep selecting areas and it tells you about how much time your workout will take.  I love things that do the "thinking" for me! 

Also, the Wii Fit Plus keeps up with roughly how many calories you burn with each workout.  This feature is great for me since I'm using MyFitnessPal to keep up with how many calories I eat/burn per day.  (It's also great to see how much I have to workout to "earn" that beer with dinner.)  And since I'm a small person, it takes a long time for me to burn the calories I need to keep up a "lose weight" metabolism. 

On the diabetes front, the workouts have never been strenuous enough that I've needed to disconnect the pump.  And I like that I can pause at any time to check my blood sugar, if need be.  That would be a little awkward to do in a gym class, not to mention I'd miss some exercise time doing the test (ding:  another pro!). 

So there it is, my workout regimen at home.  I'm definitely not anti-gym.  In fact, I've signed up to use the gym for free at work, but that's strictly for breaking up the routine a little bit.  And for when I get tired of trying to do sit-ups while the dogs are licking my face each time I come up (OK, working out at home con).  I still feel self-conscious and awkward in a typical gym setting.  Everybody is different, and every PWD's diabetes is different.  My exercise regimen is what works for me, and some people are lifetime gym rats.  Whatever gets us moving for better diabetes management is the ultimate goal anyway! 

(Note:  Neither Nintendo nor the Wii Fit people asked me to write this blog post.  I simply love the Wii Fit and have no problem talking about a good product if I believe in it.)   

Breakfast Starts in the Evening

I have a love/hate relationship with breakfast cereal.  I love it enough to eat it everyday.  It's been my favorite choice for breakfast for as long as I can remember.  It's fast and easy to make, especially during the work week.  I had 22 years to get used to eating it and making it my breakfast habit.  And I'm such a stubborn creature of habit that I refuse to make anything else for breakfast during the week. 

Enter diabetes: 

Most breakfast cereals cause a major spike in blood sugar, even those with the least amount of sugar.  So I try to pick a cereal that is high in fiber and protein to hopefully combat the spikes.  My favorite cereal choice is Kashi Go Lean Original, and I usually eat 3/4 cup with 3/4 cup skim milk.  However, I still see the spikes, like shoot up into the 250s for 2 hours spikes.  I don't see these spikes all the time, but I have everyday this week.  I never really could explain why I saw them sometimes and sometimes not. 

Until this morning. 

This morning didn't really start out any different, I woke up and tested:  138 mg/dL.  I dialed in a correction and bolused for my cereal:  33 g.  Then I hopped in the shower (oh yeah, don't forget the 0.5 u bolus to combat the dawn phenomenon).  I get out of the shower, feed the dogs, water the cats, and then filled my bowl with the carefully measured 3/4 cup of cereal and milk (roughly 30 minutes have passed by now since the bolus).  I usually see the spike begin about the time I start to dry my hair.  But I kept waiting, and kept waiting, and kept waiting, but nothing.  I looked down at Constance to see that she has barely crested 100 mg/dL (I actually went low down to 70 mg/dL before the cereal kicked in).  But I didn't even peak past 150 mg/dL. 

Constance graph showing about the time I woke up (5 AM), the low before my cereal kicked in, then the "spike" under 150 mg/dL. 

So what happened to cause this non-spike spike?

Last night I exercised for 35 minutes on the Wii Fit and followed it with a protein-filled dinner of taco salad.  I have heard that the blood sugar effects from exercise last as long as a day, but I had never really seen it in action.  I have stuck to my resolutions (so far) of trying to exercise at least 3 days/week or every other day.  And the exercise that I did wasn't that strenuous, either.  I hardly broke a sweat and didn't even disconnect Arnold, and no low followed. 

I have always been a proponent that diabetics can and should be able to eat anything that they want.  It just takes lots of testing and tweaking to figure out how to keep your numbers stable.  I have conquered the beer/pizza super bolus, and now I can check off "breakfast cereals" on my list, too.  So now I know that when I start to see the spikes from my cereal in the mornings, I need to get my butt up and exercise in order to avoid them. 

Diabetes win! 

Nothing to Fear

I had my very first eye appointment as a diabetic yesterday.  (Reader:  "Wait?  Haven't you been diabetic for 4 years?!")  Yes, reader, I have.  I know that going to a yearly eye doctor is something I'm supposed to do, but I had such a bad experience with my one (and only) eye appointment about 6 years ago.  Long story short, the doctor I saw was extremely forceful and unfriendly. 

So I've been putting this appointment off for as long as I could, until I started noticing that it was becoming more difficult to read words on the TV from the couch and reading presentation slides from the back of the conference room.  Trey kept noticing me squinting and said, "You're going to the eye doctor."  I reluctantly agreed, because I knew this was something I need to do. 

I arrived at the office yesterday afternoon, signed in, filled out the standard new patient form, and sighed as I circled "Diabetes" under current illnesses.  While I was waiting to be called, I was able to snap a picture for my D365 project and the Waiting with Diabetes group: 

I sat next to the tile foyer, ready to make my escape.

I got called back and made my way into a dark room with several chairs with chin rests.  The tech told me to look into the little black box where I saw a picture of a green field with a red box in the middle.  She did some adjusting to the lenses, then all of a sudden . . . PSSHT! . . . I get sprayed with this stuff into my left eye!  WTH?!  I had no idea what that was, the tech told me it was some type of spray, but I couldn't understand her.  Perhaps I should have told her at the beginning that this was my first appointment in 6 years, maybe she would have told me what to expect. 

Then I was escorted into a smaller room with one chair.  The tech gave me a huge black spoon to put over my eye and told me to try to read the letters in the mirror in front of me.  I really struggled with the first few lines she gave me, which kind of got me down.  I thought I would get the easier letters first and then go down, but apparently we were going backwards.  So the later lines she gave me I could read a lot better.  She sat down at the computer and asked me what medications I was taking.  "Novolog and Prilosec."  This was the first time diabetes was even mentioned in this appointment.  She asked me if I was type 1 or type 2, then told me how important it is to come in for a yearly appointment.  I kept feeling like I was saying over and over in my head, "I know, I'm sorry, I know." 

She told me the doctor would be in shortly and left me in the room by myself.  Two seconds later the doctor came in, and she was unlike any doctor I've ever had.  About my height (5'2"), a little portly, wearing a leopard print skirt and textured tights.  I smiled and thought she must be really cool.  She introduced herself and looked at my chart.  "How long have you had diabetes?"  "Just passed four years," I said.  "Well even with controlled diabetes, it's still very important to get your eyes checked once a year because we want to check to the back of your eyes and look at your nerve function, not necessarily your vision."  Repeating in my head, "I know, I'm sorry, I know." 

Then she dilates my eyes, and I go pick out some glasses to cater to my near-sightedness brought about by my eye exam.  I pick out some frames, and sit back down in the lobby waiting for my eyesight to get fuzzy.  She calls me back in and she shines a light in my eye as I my a circle looking around the room.  "OK," she says as she rolls back from my chair.  I was thinking, "OK what?!  What?!  Tell me!!"  She finally says, "Your eyes look perfectly healthy."  "Oh," I said,"that's a relief."  "Yep, I see nothing wrong."  She leads me out and I head out on my merry way. 

It was in that moment that I realized that we don't get a huge prize in avoiding complications, other than the avoidance itself.  I felt elated that I dodge a huge bullet in avoiding this appointment for four years, but all I could do was sit in the chair in the dark room and breathe a huge sigh of relief.  I called my mom and told her, and told Trey when I got home and they were both happy for me.  I just hate that I feel like I'm getting congratulated for something that's supposed to be mine at some point in my life.  I don't want it, and I'll keep passing that plate each time it comes by me.  Until then, I'll be rocking some sexy kitten-heel frames. 

Friday Five: Since then . . .

Tomorrow is my 4th anniversary since my diagnosis.  I was thinking about this the other day and reflecting on everything that's happened in 4 years.  So for this edition of Friday Five, I want take a look back at everything that happened since that day. 

1.  I graduated with a bachelor's degree in Physics with a minor in Mathematics.  My diagnosis happened at the end of my second to last semester in undergrad.  Several people asked me if I was going to take the next semester off to get used to being diabetic.  To be honest, the thought never crossed my mind.  I guess I never truly knew how serious this disease was until later, so coming back to college with insulin pens seemed to be just part of my life then.  I was too passionate about my education to simply give up.  

Just after walking across the stage. 

2.  Married the guy who's been there since day one.  I love him more now that I did on that day.  I can't imagine being with anyone else, and not just because of diabetes.  Trey is the strong, dependable Christian man I prayed for when I was single.  I respect him because he proves his love for God and me through his actions.  Being with him feels like "home". 

I look up to him, literally. 

3.  I became a MASTER . . . of atmospheric science.  Grad school was by far the most stressful thing I've ever gone through, but I felt so proud of myself on the day I defended my thesis.  I was the first female in my family to get a graduate degree, and it landed me a great job. 

Defending my research at a conference. 

4.  Helped remodel a house.  OK, my abilities kind of stop at sweeping and painting, but that's more than I've ever done before in my life!  Having a bulk pack of sports drinks at arms' length helped keep away the lows involved with sweat equity.  I love seeing how we've turned this somewhat trashed house into our family home. 

Proof that I painted.

5.  Preparing for children.  We aren't trying or anything, just doing some preparation work.  But I know that diabetes won't be something I have to wait on.  The fact that Trey and I can talk about our future kids without a worry about my less-then-stellar incubator gives me hope that diabetes will continue to be the background noise in our life. 

Even without diabetes, these past four years have included a lot of life changes that would make a normal person go "whew!"  I'm not sure if I would have taken stock of all of it if I didn't have an anniversary to celebrate.  I guess it's another reason I'm GRATEFUL for diabetes, it gives me a chance to sit back and be humbled by all the blessings in my life while managing this disease.  And whether I'm here on Earth for 4 more years or 40 years, I hope I always take the time to look back and see how far I've come.  It's like anytime someone says to me, "Oh you can't do that because you have diabetes."  I can say, "Oh yeah, watch me . . ." 

Thinking About Resolutions

Welcome to December, this wonderful time of year where we break out the Christmas decorations, moisturizer, and extra large insulin reservoirs for all those holiday feasts!  (What?  Just me?)  But as we enter the last month of 2010 (wow, really? already?!), I'm already starting to think about my resolutions for 2011.  Some of them are diabetes-related and some aren't (or ain't for those of you near my neck of the woods). 

I try to make resolutions that are challenging but realistic at the same time.  If I vowed to lose 20 lbs every January 1st, I'd be in the negative for that goal every year.  Most of my resolutions are things I've already thought about throughout the year, but feel the need to establish a concrete goal for it.  Here's what I have so far: 

• Get the freak back to working out!  This is probably a somewhat typical resolution, but I know I really need to establish a workout routine.  Unfortunately, I love being outdoors so I try to take my workouts to walking in my neighborhood or bike riding.  But I need a routine for indoors that doesn't need a lot of equipment.  We have a Nintendo Wii and the subsequent Wii Fit, but I asked Santa (yeah, I still believe) for the Wii Fit Plus to add some spice to my Wii-ness.  But I've also signed up for the fitness center here at work, but I need to get a doctor's physical done in order to start going there.  
• On that note, I have several doctor's appointments that I've been putting off that I've scheduled for 2011.  One of those is an eye doctor appointment.  I must confess, in the almost 4 years I've been diabetic, I've never been to an eye doctor.  I went to one before I started college, but I had such a bad experience that I refused to go to another one unless I had to (the doctor I saw was extremely forceful with my eyes and wasn't friendly at all, the tears I had after the appointment were not just doctor-induced).  But I've finally made another appointment and I'm hoping to tell them how apprehensive I am.  
• I also need to start the hunt again for another primary care physician.  I really don't want to go back to the one I saw a couple months ago for my knee, but the office where she was has several doctors.  So I'm going to ask for a switch.  I need to get a physical done in order to use the gym at work, but I also want to have a good doctor that I'm comfortable with for things non-D.  
• Less coffee, more water.  My job is great, but I believe it has helped get into the not-so-great habit of constant coffee drinking.  My 30-40 minute commute combined with 9-hour workdays is really draining, and I'm relying more and more on coffee to keep me going.  But as lovely as coffee is, it's a bad diuretic--it dehydrates me, and I'm seeing the effects of dehydration on my currently cracked knuckles.  I want to at least have as many cups of water as I do coffee, however this also might mean more trips to the restroom, which may help my first bullet point.  
• Establish an organized, house cleaning routine.  I love our house!  But it is big, and the extra space makes keeping things organized not so easy because I generally will organize and clean things when they start getting in my way.  "That pile of important mail?  Oh just move it over here and I'll think about it again in a few weeks."  The same with cleaning.  I will wait and wait and wait until the mess starts to frustrate me and I declare, "That's it!  I'm cleaning!"  And I begin a rage-fueled cleaning spree that may result in me trying to vacuum the cats because they are ultimately the root of the problem anyway.  This rage also results in a low because I don't think about the exercise involved in a 2-hour cleaning spree.  I imagine if I had an established weekly cleaning routine, I could plan for the drop in BG and (maybe) spare the cats from the vacuum. 
• And finally, my last resolution but the one I'm most excited about:  read the Bible in a year.  I grew up in church and have been a Christian for 18 years, but I've maybe read only half of the Bible, overall.  I'm looking at several "read the Bible in one year" plans and I'm hoping to settle on one before December 31st.  If I don't keep any of my other resolutions, I'm determined to keep this one. 

So those are my resolutions.  Have any of you established any yet?  Any advice for the ones I've chosen, especially the house cleaning routine one?  

Twenty-Six Reasons

Today's my birthday, and I've got 26 reasons to be happy (which is perfect because that's how old I am). 

1. I've lived almost 4 years with diabetes and am still as healthy as day #1.  
2. I have a wonderful husband who puts up with my silly, emotional self, especially when I spend most of the day over 200 mg/dL, and he rubs my back as I sit on the edge of the bed and cry myself into his soaked T-shirt.  Just for example.  
3. I have wonderful, supportive parents who make a pot of crawfish boil and strawberry cheesecake for my birthday because they know me.  
4. I have a great extended family who loves me and is flooding my text message inbox with birthday messages.  
5. Someone bought pumpkin spice latte creamer and put it in the coffee room at work!  
6. I'm thankful for my wonderful job that has given me opportunities to use both of Super Nerd degrees.  
7. Today is Monday which means that I have a new lancet to start the week.  
8. I just bolused for a pomegranate Greek yogurt and I'm salivating waiting for my insulin to kick in.  
9. I have wonderful friends who I consider to be more like family.  
10. Even though they drive me crazy, I have 4 furry friends who are always happy to see me when I get home.  
11. I get to decorate our new house with all the Christmas decorations I bought last year.  And I actually have a fireplace to put my stockings on!  
12. Christmas 2011 has unofficially been declared to be held at our house.  I'm totally psyched and freaking out at the same time.  
13. Auburn is #1 in the BCS standings!  
14. I'm finally joining the 21st century and getting an iPod.  It should be here later this week or next week.  
15. I'm glad I live in Alabama because I'm a total wuss when it comes to this cold weather thing.  It was 48 F this morning and I thought I was going to die! 
16. It's been 30 minutes since I typed #8.  Excuse me for a moment . . . 
17. It was delicious!  
18. I'm so thankful to have the DOC!  It's so great to have people who instantly become friends over the phrase, "You?  Yeah, me too."  
19. I got to ride my cousin's four-wheeler this weekend and only screamed a couple thousand times.  This made Trey fold over in laughter.  
20. My dad has been doing some research on our family and apparently people live to be fairly old (respective death ages range from 86 to 104!). 
21. On that historical note, I'm so thankful to live in this age of technology and to have a pump and CGM to help me manage this disease.  
22. Roscoe only puked once in the 5 hour trip to south Alabama.  Poor puppy does not handle car rides very well.  
23. I bought new gray work pants in my Saturday shopping, but I just realized they have faux pockets.  So Arnold and Constance are going clipped today.  
24. I'm celebrating my birthday by doing a little shopping after work.  I'm so excited!  
25. I love my mint flavored chapstick!  It makes me feel like I just got done brushing my teeth but not really. 
26. I got a fancy new KitchenAid mixer as my birthday present!  And yes, I asked for it, so it's OK for me to get a "kitchen gift".  

Oh, and one to grow on . . .

   27.  I'm so happy to share this birthday with all of you.  Love you guys!  =)

Six Questions on D-Blog Day!

Today, November 9th is the 6th annual D-Blog Day!  This year's topic is "6 things you want people to know about diabetes".  But since I like to put my own spin on things, I'd like to answer the 6 most common questions I hear about diabetes. 

 

1.  Does it hurt?  

 By far the most common question I get.  Answer:  sometimes.  Testing my blood used to hurt a lot at first when I was diagnosed.  But I got used to it and learned where to test on my fingers so it doesn't hurt as much.  It also hurt when I first gave myself shots, leaving bruises all over my stomach.  But then I got Arnold and the Quick Serter makes it not hurt so much.  The needle for Constance kind of hurts going in, but once the needle is out and it's just the sensor left, I can't feel it at all. 

2.  What can you eat?  

Most people believe that diabetics should only eat meat and vegetables.  Although these are healthy choices, our bodies do need carbs for everyday functions (like, the brain).  I am of the philosophy that you can eat anything in moderation, as long as you plan and take your insulin properly.  Some foods are worth the hassle, to me, like pizza and beer.  Others, like donuts and cake, aren't.  

And just because something says "sugar-free" on it, doesn't mean that it's safe for diabetics to eat.  The entire nutritional gamut needs to be considered:  calories, fat, carbs, and protein.  Regardless of your pancreatic function, I believe we all should eat a healthy, well-balanced diet. 

3.  Do you have to wear the pump all the time? 

I wear the pump continuously throughout the day unless I'm in the shower or going swimming because it can't get wet or if I'm exercising.  (Yes, sex is considered exercise.  I've actually gotten this question more than I ever thought I would.)  

4.  Insulin is a cure, right? 

*sigh* No.  Insulin is a necessary hormone that converts glucose in the blood into energy for the muscles.  However, too much insulin causes low blood sugar or hypoglycemia, which can cause someone to go into a seizure or coma.  In extreme cases, it can even cause death.  Any medication where the side effects include "seizures, coma, death" is not considered a cure to me.  

5.  Isn't type 1 like the bad type 2?  And type 2 can be "cured" with diet and exercise? 

No and no.  All people with diabetes have a genetic predisposition to the disease.  Type 1 diabetes is where the pancreas doesn't produce any insulin, whereas in type 2 diabetes the pancreas produces some insulin but not enough to properly maintain normal blood sugar levels.  Type 2 diabetes can be controlled enough in some patients with just diet and exercise, but they are always considered diabetic.  They are two completely different diseases, not different levels of the same one. 

6.  Will you have it for the rest of your life? 

I've pretty much succumbed to the idea that I will be diabetic as long as I live in this earthly body.  It's not that I've given up hope for a cure, certainly not!  But I don't want to sit around waiting for a cure while life passes me by.  If a cure is found in my lifetime, wonderful!  If not, then I want to plan to live my life to the fullest potential that I can, diabetes regardless. 

Mentors

I am a big proponent of having mentors.  I believe everyone should have a mentor for every side of life:  career, family, hobbies, etc.  For those that don't know what I mean, a mentor is someone who has had experience in something that you're either new to or have less experience in, and the mentor guides you along in getting through any hurdles.  I suppose some people might call these people "role models", but a mentor is something a little more than that.  Yes, a mentor is a role model, but they are also hands-on in helping you. 

I've only ever had two official mentors in my life:  Kathy and Lisa.  Kathy was my girls' Bible study teacher in high school.  She would host a Bible study for the high school girls in my youth group once a week.  But what I liked about her style of teaching was that there were no study guides, no devotional books, just our Bibles and a notebook.  She taught us how to a devotional with just the Word of God and prayer.  Besides the Bible studies, she would schedule a one-on-one session with each girl through dinner, a coffee date, whatever.  During that time we were allowed to ask anything we wanted from her about faith, boys, dressing modestly, drugs, ANYTHING!  I was so grateful for her presence in my life during that time.  I cried my eyeballs out when her husband was called to be a missionary.  But we still keep in touch to this day. 

Lisa is my marriage mentor along with her husband Dave, who is a mentor to Trey.  When Trey and I were going through our premarital counseling, we were set up with Lisa & Dave through our counselors.  Basically, the marriage mentors were a couple who had been married at least 10 years (they've been married for 27! woo!) and have weathered some marriage "storms" that could be helpful guidance for a young couple.  (Also, they try to set up the mentors with couples of similar personalities, and Lisa & Dave have 9 kids!  What exactly were our counselors trying to tell us?!)  I can't explain how grateful we are to have them in our lives.  Since we don't live near either one of our parents, Lisa & Dave are like our surrogate parents.  She's there for me for everything from, "How do I get him to put his socks IN the hamper?" to serious stuff.  The first few years of marriage can be tricky ones, and I'm so glad to have someone who's been there (with 9 kids in tow!). 

Other than these two fabulous ladies, I have had other mentors who were not so "official".  They were people along the way who helped me, without being asked, and I've always been able to go to them without hesitation.  Whether or not they feel the same, I consider them my mentors.  I like to see them as examples for myself.  One of these unoffical mentors is someone I work with.  She's a bright, energetic, smart lady on our space team (I'm terrestrial, there's this weird rivalry between space and terrestrial /digression) who not only is good at what she does, but she's always presented herself with a stylish fashion sense.  I'm a big fan of smart women, but I'm an even bigger fan of smart women who still act like women. 

The other day, this woman and I were heating up our lunches in the break room when she asked, "Now Holly, are you diabetic?"  "Yes, I am," I said with a smile.  "OK, I noticed that thing on your arm (I've been sporting my Dexcom sensor on my left arm for the past 2 weeks, but even with sweaters it still bulges through.) and wondered about it."  I told her about my CGM and showed her the nifty receiver tucked away in my pocket.  Then I showed her my insulin pump in my other pocket.  She told me that a friend of theirs had a child who also had a pump, and her husband was worried about that little girl having to wear one of those the rest of her life into adulthood.  I told her that even though the pump is something I'm tethered to 24/7, I feel that I had more freedom with it and that being diabetic is not the end of the world, especially as a kid.  That little girl won't have a lifetime to get used to cereal, pasta, and pizza like I did, then have their world change completely with diabetes.  By the time she's my age, diabetes will be such second nature.  My unofficial mentor politely listened while I told her all this, then she said, "Wow, I'm going to tell my husband everything you just said, because he was really worried about that little girl."  "Please do." 

Even though my unofficial mentor was not as educated about diabetes (especially type 1), she presented a genuine curiosity without a previous bias or opinion.  She was happy to listen to what I had to say, as if I were the expert on all things diabetes.  I'm certainly not, but I'm glad that someone wanted to know from a "source" rather than the stereotypical scare tactic.  She confirmed my faith in having her as my mentor. 

And if you're one of my coworkers reading this and have figured out that you're my unofficial mentor, please be flattered.  I think you're pretty awesome! 

Calling All Fingers

Ever since I was diagnosed, I've mainly used my middle and ring fingers for testing.  I use these fingers the least for normal, daily activities.  I also try to test on the sides of my fingers rather than the fingertips so it doesn't hurt as bad.  And I've actually got into the good habit of changing out my lancet once a week!  Every Monday morning, it's the first thing I do before I test. 

But lately I've been noticing that these fingers are not as willing to give up the blood.  Due to testing 6-8 times a day normally, "correcting" Constance when she alerts me of a high or low, and entering two tests at the beginning of a new sensor cycle, I'm testing a lot more.  All of this is great as far as diabetes management, but detrimental if I ever wanted to fulfill my dream of being a hand model (not really my dream, but just sayin').  Either way, my two (four) finger rotation wasn't cutting it for all these tests, even with testing on two sides. 

So, for awhile I've been bringing the pinky into the testing rotation.  I've always spared the pinky because . . . well . . . I feel sorry for it.  It's the tiniest of all the fingers and it's all the way on the far side of the hand.  It only has the ring finger to keep it warm, but it can be kind of a diva (especially the left one *wink*).  And inevitably, I always stick it out when I'm sipping on a drink; it doesn't matter what the drink is, either:  coffee, water, even beer, the pinky sticks out.  It actually drives Trey crazy, "Why are you sticking your pinky out?  You're not French!"  Like the French have copyrights on the pinky being out, only during tea time. 

Now the pinky is starting to look pitiful, so I have to bring in the other two fingers:  the index and thumb.  I really don't like testing on these fingers because it hurts.  Maybe I'm still getting used to using them for testing, but I also use these fingers for most of my daily activities.  I try to only use these fingers when all of my other fingers start looking like over-used pin cushions. 

So now I'm using all ten fingers for testing.  I look down at my hands, and all fingers have nice red spots on them from previous tests.  When I did my security clearance for my job, they took a digital scan of my fingers, and you could still see pricks on my fingers that looked like they healed.  In other words, my finger print actually changes everyday!  Who's ready to rob a bank with me?  =D 

Guest Post: Another Bionic Woman

Today's guest post comes from Adriana who blogs and tweets.  She's channeled her inner bionic woman and blogged about when she went on the pump 18 years ago and had to be hospitalized.  Wow!  Thanks, Adriana for sharing this story. 

Hey! I’m Adriana and I blog over at Living Life with Diabetes. I’m excited to be guest posting for Holly while she is off at the beach. I’m so jealous!

While I was thinking about what to write about for this blog post the idea of “bionic woman” kept coming to mind. Holly has talked a lot about being the bionic woman what with Arnold her trusty pump and now Constance her new CGM.

At age 7, in 1988, I was diagnosed with diabetes.  It came as a huge shock to the family but we all adjusted as best we could. In July 1992 at age 11 my endocrinologist put me on an insulin pump. At the time I was the youngest person in the area to have been put on the pump. This meant that I didn’t know anybody else who was on the pump. In fact it would be a few years until I met somebody who also wore a pump.

I remember pulling into the hospital that would be my home for the next week while I adjusted to the insulin pump and learned how to use it. Yes, I was admitted into the hospital! Looking up at the hospital all I could see was a jail. In my 11 year old mind that was what the hospital was. I wanted to be hanging out at the mall with my friends instead of being in hooked up to some machine 24/7 and spending a week in the hospital. You could say I didn’t have the greatest attitude.

Over the course of the next week my mom and I learned all about carb counting (such a new thing at the time,) basal rates, infusion sites, and all the blood testing involved. One day I was given a get-out-of-jail-free card for 2 hours so my mom and I went to Michael’s and bought arts and crafts supplies. Standing in the parking lot I felt different. I felt like I belonged in the hospital.

That feeling of belonging in the hospital took a long time to go away. I hated and loved the pump. Sometime in my early twenties I started to feel like my insulin pump was just another body part. Up until November of last year I only wore my pump hidden away in my bra so nobody could see. I would stick my hand down my shirt wherever I was to pull it out to bolus but never felt comfortable wearing it anywhere else. For some reason since November it is on my belt or pocket all the time. I don’t care anymore.

I wish I could tell my 11 year old self that just because I wore an insulin pump it didn’t mean I belonged in a hospital. The insulin pump has been amazing for me and I’m so glad and proud I’ve been on it for 18 years. I do wonder what 11 year old me would think about my CGM?

Adriana's pink Animas Ping insulin pump.  Pretty!

Guest Post: Letting Go

My first guest post this week comes from Phyllis Post (hey!).  She tells the story of her son's diagnosis (that was very close to mine, in story and date) and learning to let him take control of his diabetes as he grows up.  Phyllis blogs about quilts and books with happy endings.  Thank you so much, Phyllis, for filling in today.  

It was like a scene in a TV medical drama. At around 4:00 am in a nearly deserted ER of the large children’s hospital near our Midwestern home, the triage nurse took a good look at our 10-year-old son and muttered, “I don’t like the look of this.” She immediately came around from behind the desk, grabbed the wheelchair he was in and rushed down the hallway yelling, “I need a resident in here, stat!” Doctors and nurses came out of nowhere and gathered around our son as they tested him and hooked him up to all manner of machines. Somewhere in there I heard the “D” word, but it would be over a day later before I even began to understand just what that word would mean for our family of 3.

That was how our Thanksgiving weekend ended in 2006. Now, nearly 4 years later, I rarely look back to try and remember what life was like without diabetes. Instead I am thankful that God promises to work for the good of all those who love Him (Rom. 8:28). And in all sincerity, there is a lot of good for us to see. Our friends and family have been so supportive. My employer in particular has made it possible for me to work around the rather insane schedule of medical appointments we now deal with. We have insurance. We still have our son who has handled having this disease with grace and good humor.

He’s in high school now. He just started as a freshman at the end of August. And it’s a whole new ballgame because the school nurse doesn’t keep a close eye on her diabetic charges unless they specifically ask for help. She tells me that few of them do. Instead it’s up to him now to count his carbs, bolus correctly, and pay attention (!) to what his body is telling him. Those 8 hours at school each day are the training ground for him to be living someday independently 24/7 with his diabetes. Those 8 hours at school each day are also the training ground for my husband & I to learn how to let him go. It’s hard enough to let go of a child as it is, but one day we’ll have to let go of his diabetes management, too.

These are treacherous waters. There are so many pitfalls facing teenagers; how do we help him avoid all of the normal ones as well as the one we never expected? There are no easy answers, no matter what issues we face as parents. I’ve spent a good bit of the last 4 years learning everything I can about diabetes. Blogs like Holly’s here help me understand some of the things my son will have to deal with when he’s on his own. So to all of you D-bloggers out there, I heart-felt “Thank You!” for what you do. I’m so grateful for the accumulated wisdom and knowledge that I find here in cyberspace. I don’t think we’d have adapted nearly as well as if we had if it hadn’t been for so many of you out there maintaining sites where I can lurk to my heart’s content.

Prov. 22:6 says “train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.” We apply this to everything, including diabetes, and then we simply remember that when all is said and done, God is in control. He loves us and will always be there for us and for our son. Life is about far more than diabetes and we do our best to always remember that.

Picture of Phyllis with author Brenda Novak who runs an annual auction to benefit diabetes research (Phyllis is the one on the right).