That's apparently what I am... An originator - and, of late, addicted to links...
ENTP - among only 3% of the population - and only 1.5% of females...
So - go here and take it... Tell us what you are...
I love this description of ENTPs....
"ENTPs are idea people. Their perceptive abilities cause them to see possibilities everywhere. They get excited and enthusiastic about their ideas, and are able to spread their enthusiasm to others. In this way, they get the support that they need to fulfill their visions"
And apparently, I share this personality type with a few presidents, John Candy, Weird Al Yankovitch, Kramer from Seinfeld AND Wile E Coyote... AWESOME....
It doesn't hurt that the list of careers that I may succeed in are all super cool. Artist, writer, PR person... Sure...
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
This is just sad...
No books in a whole year??
Seriously people... "I just get sleepy when I read..." ?? What?? Dude, it would be better if you got sleepy while "enjoying your backyard pool."
Urgh.
Seriously people... "I just get sleepy when I read..." ?? What?? Dude, it would be better if you got sleepy while "enjoying your backyard pool."
Urgh.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Update - Sans Photos
OK... By demand.
The roller derby girls are SCARY. Seriously tough. Seriously scary. Many of them look like athletes - though some of them just look like regular girls who've put on their tough masks. I was aiming for the latter as I got ready to join them for skating.
Put on a pair of black tights, white fishnets over them, a black and gray plaid skirt with a pair of black shorts under it, a red RANCID T-shirt with a white tank over it, the black skates I borrowed from my friend Kate - along with the armor - a helmet, knee and elbow pads. I have to say, there is nothing better than cute women in their late 20s and early 30s dressed completely age inappropriately and wearing roller skates. Come on, admit it, if you're a guy, it's a dream come true - if you're a girl you want to be there.
Anyway, we made our way to the Skate Club in Pawtucket, RI - I was terrified I might lose a tooth - or worse, but put on that tough mask - not wanting to show even a molecule of fear. Kate jabbered about how cool these girls were, how after we'd skated and they'd done their drills we'd head out for a beer, how she thought if I did well, maybe I'd want to skate derby style... My mind jabbered on about keeping the wrist that I broke a few years ago safe and keeping my mouth piece in my mouth to protect my choppers.
Upon arrival, I tested... And came in at a cool 107 mg/dl. One of these very tough girls seemed incredibly impressed as I tested and then disconnected my pump.... At least I have that going for me...
And we're off. I hadn't been on skates in some time, people. But I do think it's rather like riding a bicycle. After a few minutes, I felt fairly confident that if I fell it wouldn't be because of my two left feet. But, these girls can skate... Like, really, really skate. They glided around that rink, heads down, chests pulled up a bit, eyes furious... And at times, they moved like one unit - a snake - pulling and pushing each other faster... I mostly stuck with Kate - and marvelled at how much work it is to roller skate - you use pretty much every muscle in your legs and butt - not to mention the ones in your lower back. Thirty minutes, I lasted... Before their drills began.
Drills - I say. More like insanity. These girls fling one another around as if they're confetti. They practice blocking and pushing out of bounds and in bounds. They practice dodging techniques - like skating very low and working to check a girl out of bounds. Even more impressive - they have a damned great time doing it. They look like they enjoy even the parts that hurt just to watch... Insane? Masochistic? I don't know... It did look like fun... To me.
After 'practice' we went out and had a drink. Which I swear I was the only one that needed. Needing to track BG and maintain my tough girl image, I tested again just after I left the rink. 136 mg/dl - not too shabby - even with a disconnect of over 30 minutes. I guess rollerskating really is good for me....
But I won't be joining any derby teams anytime soon. I promise there are photos coming. I've seen a hard copy of one of them, but the young lady that took them hasn't returned my repeated email requests for electronic copies. I'm thinking I broke the camera. Or something. At the very least, I'll put my gear back on and have someone take a photo of just me all derbied... Soon.
****
In other news... Renewed focus on diet and exercise and logging continues. I have now missed only one day of exercise since June 15th. Pretty good. I've been eating well. Th0ugh I've not lost anymore weight, my bg values have been amazing...
Here's a snapshot from past two weeks, courtesy of SugarStats - if you've not checked this program out - you should, it's a great way to log from anywhere and is the ONLY kind of logging I've ever stuck to religiously.
Average: 107 mg/dl
Values in range - 70-15o mg/dl - 81%
Values < 70 mg/dl - 10%
Values > 150 mg/dl - 7%
No values greater than 250 mg/dl
Standard deviation: 37
Average activity per day: 1.1 hours
I'm hoping to nip those low sugars in the bud over the next week or two - but I'm proud of what I've been able to achieve in terms of good control by focusing and adjusting regularly.
OK - that's it for now... Are you happy? Happier if you had photos, you say? Listen, I'm working on it. One step at a time...
The roller derby girls are SCARY. Seriously tough. Seriously scary. Many of them look like athletes - though some of them just look like regular girls who've put on their tough masks. I was aiming for the latter as I got ready to join them for skating.
Put on a pair of black tights, white fishnets over them, a black and gray plaid skirt with a pair of black shorts under it, a red RANCID T-shirt with a white tank over it, the black skates I borrowed from my friend Kate - along with the armor - a helmet, knee and elbow pads. I have to say, there is nothing better than cute women in their late 20s and early 30s dressed completely age inappropriately and wearing roller skates. Come on, admit it, if you're a guy, it's a dream come true - if you're a girl you want to be there.
Anyway, we made our way to the Skate Club in Pawtucket, RI - I was terrified I might lose a tooth - or worse, but put on that tough mask - not wanting to show even a molecule of fear. Kate jabbered about how cool these girls were, how after we'd skated and they'd done their drills we'd head out for a beer, how she thought if I did well, maybe I'd want to skate derby style... My mind jabbered on about keeping the wrist that I broke a few years ago safe and keeping my mouth piece in my mouth to protect my choppers.
Upon arrival, I tested... And came in at a cool 107 mg/dl. One of these very tough girls seemed incredibly impressed as I tested and then disconnected my pump.... At least I have that going for me...
And we're off. I hadn't been on skates in some time, people. But I do think it's rather like riding a bicycle. After a few minutes, I felt fairly confident that if I fell it wouldn't be because of my two left feet. But, these girls can skate... Like, really, really skate. They glided around that rink, heads down, chests pulled up a bit, eyes furious... And at times, they moved like one unit - a snake - pulling and pushing each other faster... I mostly stuck with Kate - and marvelled at how much work it is to roller skate - you use pretty much every muscle in your legs and butt - not to mention the ones in your lower back. Thirty minutes, I lasted... Before their drills began.
Drills - I say. More like insanity. These girls fling one another around as if they're confetti. They practice blocking and pushing out of bounds and in bounds. They practice dodging techniques - like skating very low and working to check a girl out of bounds. Even more impressive - they have a damned great time doing it. They look like they enjoy even the parts that hurt just to watch... Insane? Masochistic? I don't know... It did look like fun... To me.
After 'practice' we went out and had a drink. Which I swear I was the only one that needed. Needing to track BG and maintain my tough girl image, I tested again just after I left the rink. 136 mg/dl - not too shabby - even with a disconnect of over 30 minutes. I guess rollerskating really is good for me....
But I won't be joining any derby teams anytime soon. I promise there are photos coming. I've seen a hard copy of one of them, but the young lady that took them hasn't returned my repeated email requests for electronic copies. I'm thinking I broke the camera. Or something. At the very least, I'll put my gear back on and have someone take a photo of just me all derbied... Soon.
****
In other news... Renewed focus on diet and exercise and logging continues. I have now missed only one day of exercise since June 15th. Pretty good. I've been eating well. Th0ugh I've not lost anymore weight, my bg values have been amazing...
Here's a snapshot from past two weeks, courtesy of SugarStats - if you've not checked this program out - you should, it's a great way to log from anywhere and is the ONLY kind of logging I've ever stuck to religiously.
Average: 107 mg/dl
Values in range - 70-15o mg/dl - 81%
Values < 70 mg/dl - 10%
Values > 150 mg/dl - 7%
No values greater than 250 mg/dl
Standard deviation: 37
Average activity per day: 1.1 hours
I'm hoping to nip those low sugars in the bud over the next week or two - but I'm proud of what I've been able to achieve in terms of good control by focusing and adjusting regularly.
OK - that's it for now... Are you happy? Happier if you had photos, you say? Listen, I'm working on it. One step at a time...
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Traces, the number 100, and other things...
When I was a teenager, I realized that I loved words. I realized that whatever job I eventually had as an adult, if it involved writing creatively, I'd probably be pretty happy doing it. Since that time, you could always find "traces" of writing laced through my life, my home. The ink stains on my right index finger where the pen sits. The notebooks and napkins and business cards and junk mail with paragraphs and stanzas scribbled on them that you'll find in and on my desk, in my car, in my purse, and pretty much in or on anyplace or anything else that I visit or use with frequency. The books - oh, the books - on the bedside table, in the desk drawer at work, on the passenger seat of the car, in the bed or on the couch - everywhere. One wouldn't need the detective skills of Lenny Briscoe to realize that I'm having a love affair with words - to realize that if I could, I'd spend the whole day reading beautiful writing and/or dreaming up poems, stories, essays and writing them down.
I was reminded during a visit with friends from the DOC, of the "traces" of having diabetes that are just as prevalent in my life as those of being a writer. My powdery glucose tablet fingerprints on the back of a black sweatshirt after giving a hug got me thinking of those hints that tell others and remind me - in those rare seconds I forget - that I have diabetes. The trail of test strips that seems to follow me wherever I go and the deep and tough calluses on my fingertips from testing. The connect-the-dots pattern on my thighs and abdomen and hips from old pump sites from which there is no break - when one set heals, new dots appear. The hypertrophy and scar tissue that remain from years of multiple injections before I started pumping. The bag of supplies that never leaves my side. The square bump of my pump under my clothes. These physical traces make me feel like I'm carrying a sign with me that says "I have diabetes."
The truth is, these traces are probably more obvious to me than they are to any bystander. What in my head screams out and calls attention to this disease, more likely than not goes unnoticed by others. But they do so bother me sometimes. In those moments when I want nothing more than to forget for awhile - to feel 100% normal - it is these things that cruely take me back to the reality of this life. Caught in a daydream or a moment of bliss - and then I catch a glimpse of that supply pack or I see a wayward test strip lying in a place it shouldn't be or I look at my scarred fingertips and there diabetes is again - rearing its ugly head.
I suppose some might say that diabetes is as much a part of me as being a writer is - and that, of course, the traces of it are just as important in defining my life as those traces of my love affair with words. I couldn't disagree more. I WANT to be a writer - I couldn't imagine a life without the stringing together of words - I choose to pursue it because it makes me feel whole. And the physical reminders that I write are a soure of joy. When I find a strip of paper on which I've scribbled something and then forgotten, I am thrilled to rediscover what I've done. It is different with the traces of diabetes. I did not choose diabetes, it is not something I pursue - it is something I HAVE. And the traces of it are more often sobering or sad than they are amusing or thrilling.
And I wonder, sometimes, if a cure is found - will these traces linger on? Will there be whispers of this life still left? I presume so. They'll be there to tell me the story of where I've been - and how I got there - and to remind me that I'm strong.
***
As for the number 100 - that would be the # of this post on Curious Girl. I'm grateful if you're still here and checking back regularly, as I'm not the most consistent blogger and it's taken me a long while to reach this milestone. :)
***
More on the DOC/Pawsox meet up later... But, stealing from Shannon - I'll give some hilights.
*Shannon and Sandra - and Sandra's sister have the BEST kids. Brilliant really.
*Both of these ladies, and Mel are as cool and as down to earth and as beautiful in person as they seem.
*Minor League baseball players are a mixed bag - some of them have REAL attitudes.
*It is always nice to be in the company of people who understand.
***
I skated with the roller derby girls, folks - got some photos and other stuff to follow on that.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Reconnection
The pump arrived yesterday.... My sigh of relief filled the room. I can't believe how much I love this piece of machinery....
It's blue by the way - the gray is on back order...
Shannon, doesn't Brendon have a blue pump?
It's blue by the way - the gray is on back order...
Shannon, doesn't Brendon have a blue pump?
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Still No Pump
Yeah, apparently there's a giant chink in Smiths/Cozmo's Customer Service. No pump AGAIN today - because of some error they made. I am tired.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Pump? What pump?
So my pump failed yesterday. At around 6:30 am. Battery dead alarm blaring wildly. I got up, took a look at the blank screen, remembered I'd changed the battery just one day prior, and called Smiths. The clinician promised to send a new pump, a new battery cover and a spare battery cover. Excellent. Just 24 hours of blech without my semi-pancreas. No big deal, right? Yeah, not so much.
I called the doc's office, ordered up some Lantus and gave my first injection - 19 units. The 24 hours following were an up and down rollercoaster of neverending "fun."
Arriving at my office this morning, I was presented a box from Smiths. With a battery cap in it. Just one f-ing battery cap. I kid you not. It was noted on the packing slip that the other battery cap AND my pump were on "Back Order." Way to call the customer and let them know - right? So, I call Smiths. They put me through to another clinician who explains that yes, the black pump is on back order, but that the issue might have been just the battery cap and that I should try using the one they sent. OK, I say. And I try it. And it seems to work... So they cancel the order for the new pump... Even though I express that I'd be more comfortable keeping it in there... Whatever.
Fast Forward to 2:30 pm - in a constituent meeting - with a low bloodsugar that I've had to ask for some juice to treat. And the blaring alarm begins. You have to be f-ing kidding me, right? But this is no joke. Pump has failed again. I unscrew the battery cap to stop the noise, finish my juice and carry on with the meeting. When it breaks, I use my cell phone to call Smiths from my boss' car. (Did I mention my boss was in the above mentioned meeting - great...) When I explain to the clinician what's happened, she points out repeatedly that I have cancelled the order. I point out repeatedly that I know the order was cancelled, in spite of the fact that I would have prefered to keep it in and that it doesn't negate the fact that the pump is now broken. Again. And that I need this pump to live. I got a bit fired up... It wasn't pretty. In the end, I will likely receive a blue Cozmo pump tomorrow AM - if they don't decide to just send another battery cap.
I gave another shot of Lantus this afternoon... And I was so reminded of both Kerri and Shannon's recent posts about how much it sucks to have to do the shots thing. Really, it bites ass. And I don't like it one bit.
Also - I had a dentist appointment tonight. Which ended up not happening. Thank you to whatever tooth-gods are watching out for me for that little bit of mercy.
Oi. Happy Birthday to me.
I called the doc's office, ordered up some Lantus and gave my first injection - 19 units. The 24 hours following were an up and down rollercoaster of neverending "fun."
Arriving at my office this morning, I was presented a box from Smiths. With a battery cap in it. Just one f-ing battery cap. I kid you not. It was noted on the packing slip that the other battery cap AND my pump were on "Back Order." Way to call the customer and let them know - right? So, I call Smiths. They put me through to another clinician who explains that yes, the black pump is on back order, but that the issue might have been just the battery cap and that I should try using the one they sent. OK, I say. And I try it. And it seems to work... So they cancel the order for the new pump... Even though I express that I'd be more comfortable keeping it in there... Whatever.
Fast Forward to 2:30 pm - in a constituent meeting - with a low bloodsugar that I've had to ask for some juice to treat. And the blaring alarm begins. You have to be f-ing kidding me, right? But this is no joke. Pump has failed again. I unscrew the battery cap to stop the noise, finish my juice and carry on with the meeting. When it breaks, I use my cell phone to call Smiths from my boss' car. (Did I mention my boss was in the above mentioned meeting - great...) When I explain to the clinician what's happened, she points out repeatedly that I have cancelled the order. I point out repeatedly that I know the order was cancelled, in spite of the fact that I would have prefered to keep it in and that it doesn't negate the fact that the pump is now broken. Again. And that I need this pump to live. I got a bit fired up... It wasn't pretty. In the end, I will likely receive a blue Cozmo pump tomorrow AM - if they don't decide to just send another battery cap.
I gave another shot of Lantus this afternoon... And I was so reminded of both Kerri and Shannon's recent posts about how much it sucks to have to do the shots thing. Really, it bites ass. And I don't like it one bit.
Also - I had a dentist appointment tonight. Which ended up not happening. Thank you to whatever tooth-gods are watching out for me for that little bit of mercy.
Oi. Happy Birthday to me.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Your Opinions, Please...
So, I have a Gala Event at the end of the month. I am still not fully decided on the garments...
I ordered this today:
And I'm considering spending an insane amount of money on these (but they're just so frigging great):
I also have this dress (already in hand):
And these shoes (in hand):
Any thoughts? Please. Help me decide. Purple and insane amount of money - or black with silver shoes that I already have?
I ordered this today:
And I'm considering spending an insane amount of money on these (but they're just so frigging great):
I also have this dress (already in hand):
And these shoes (in hand):
Any thoughts? Please. Help me decide. Purple and insane amount of money - or black with silver shoes that I already have?
Monday, July 09, 2007
An Award? For me....
Wow!
I am honored that Shannon Shindigger has bestowed upon me this award:
Honestly, Shannon and Kerri are among my top picks - and if I could, I would throw it right back to them - like a football...
But there are so many Rockin' Girl Bloggers... So here are my three:
Sandra at A Shot in the Dark. Sandra sometimes makes me laugh - hard, she sometimes makes my heart ache, but she always leaves me thinking and feeling right out loud. And I am grateful for that. I am inspired by her love for her children, her tenacity in standing up for what she knows is right, and her talent as an artist.
Hannah at Dorkabetic. A poet with a wicked (in both senses of the word) sense of humor. Often she'll write something and I think "Yup, that's what I would have thought/said/done." Dorks of the World unite!
Rachel B at Tales of My Thirties. Even though Rachel won't participate in RollerDerby with the rest of us OC gals because she claims pacifism - I believe she'd probably kick some major ass. An excellent writer, her chronicles of life with diabetes times two, working toward writing for a living, and cats galore, typically leave me better informed and often leave me smiling.
Please, ladies, do pay it forward.
I am honored that Shannon Shindigger has bestowed upon me this award:
Honestly, Shannon and Kerri are among my top picks - and if I could, I would throw it right back to them - like a football...
But there are so many Rockin' Girl Bloggers... So here are my three:
Sandra at A Shot in the Dark. Sandra sometimes makes me laugh - hard, she sometimes makes my heart ache, but she always leaves me thinking and feeling right out loud. And I am grateful for that. I am inspired by her love for her children, her tenacity in standing up for what she knows is right, and her talent as an artist.
Hannah at Dorkabetic. A poet with a wicked (in both senses of the word) sense of humor. Often she'll write something and I think "Yup, that's what I would have thought/said/done." Dorks of the World unite!
Rachel B at Tales of My Thirties. Even though Rachel won't participate in RollerDerby with the rest of us OC gals because she claims pacifism - I believe she'd probably kick some major ass. An excellent writer, her chronicles of life with diabetes times two, working toward writing for a living, and cats galore, typically leave me better informed and often leave me smiling.
Please, ladies, do pay it forward.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Feeling Like a Kennedy
Alright - minus the money, and the politics, and the massive compound in Hyannis. I'm mostly talking about the football.
We had a family cookout today and I led a group of 10 to 14 year old boys in a game of touch football. AWESOME.
I've never shared that I played football as a girl. My father told lots of my war stories today as I ran up and down the field with the sqad of kids - hurling the ball, chasing the TD, being as tomboyish as ever. "She was one of the best players on the Attleboro White Hawk team, you know. She ran right over those boys."
You'd believe it if you saw it. I can throw a pretty much perfect spiral - and hard. I know the rules of the game - and I know how to make them work on a smaller field (ie; 10 yards doesn't make a first down, but two completed passes does, and on a small field lateral movement of the ball is nearly impossible). When a fourteen year old boy comments "How long have you been playing for? You're good at this," you know you've got to be decent at the game. What's amusing is that I haven't played in years - I guess it must be a little like riding a bicycle though...
I even got my dad to join us for twenty minutes. He was on the opposing team and kept telling the boys on his side "We CANNOT let them score. I'll never live it down." And, you know what? We scored - and he won't live it down. I feel vaguely like a Kennedy - and an eensy bit like Shannon - who kicked her hubby's butt in triathlonning.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Bikers, wine, and cherries
Well, damned if that headline doesn't grab you.
Yesterday was the annual fourth of July party at John & Janna's house. Also known as biker central. Driving up, there are already 6 or 7 bikes parked out in front - even though the sky was overcast and the forecasts called for rain later in the day. A plethora of denim, black, and leather all around - I felt slightly out of place in black cropped pants, MaryJane Doc Martens, and a green tshirt. A woman with very long, very dyed-black hair and very blue eyes sits at a table, taking drags as long as her legs from a cigarette. Two burly bearded guys with strings of hair escaping from beneath rebel-flag printed do-rags stand talking bikes and horseshoes. There are several babies and toddlers around - along with the teenaged children of some of the guests.
I had picked up a bottle of this to have a glass of during the day. Of course, as the day went on, I had more than just one glass. Not maintaining the greatest balance of insulin to wine and not eating nearly enough food resulted in a rather inebriated - and low - Nicole by day's end.
It didn't help that someone had a bright idea around cherries.
Anyway - the only fireworks I saw last night were the ones on the backs of my eyelids from the low bloodsugar and too much libation.
Yesterday was the annual fourth of July party at John & Janna's house. Also known as biker central. Driving up, there are already 6 or 7 bikes parked out in front - even though the sky was overcast and the forecasts called for rain later in the day. A plethora of denim, black, and leather all around - I felt slightly out of place in black cropped pants, MaryJane Doc Martens, and a green tshirt. A woman with very long, very dyed-black hair and very blue eyes sits at a table, taking drags as long as her legs from a cigarette. Two burly bearded guys with strings of hair escaping from beneath rebel-flag printed do-rags stand talking bikes and horseshoes. There are several babies and toddlers around - along with the teenaged children of some of the guests.
I had picked up a bottle of this to have a glass of during the day. Of course, as the day went on, I had more than just one glass. Not maintaining the greatest balance of insulin to wine and not eating nearly enough food resulted in a rather inebriated - and low - Nicole by day's end.
It didn't help that someone had a bright idea around cherries.
Anyway - the only fireworks I saw last night were the ones on the backs of my eyelids from the low bloodsugar and too much libation.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Unexplained Bruises and Scrapes and Rollerskating...
This morning, I got up and got my butt to the gym for 6am yoga/kickboxing combo class. Intense cardio/stretching workout that makes me feel a little like a quaking pretzel.
Upon returning home and getting ready to shower, I noticed a fairly gigantic bruise on my right thigh. Nowhere near any recent pump site spots. It doesn't hurt at all - but it's dark purple and mean-looking. I also noticed another bruise, the same dark purple on the top of my foot. That one's a bit sore. And then, at work this morning, I realized that something on my left elbow was irritating the crap out of me. Sure enough - I look and there's a scrape and a bruise... Clear as day.
I'm wondering how these injuries are occurring. I am convinced I have either been playing rugby in my sleep:
Or maybe walking into things or falling down stairs and then forgetting:
Either way, my body looks sort of like a battlefield.
And onto - rollerskating. Someone asked me the other night if I might be interested in coming down and skating with some of these ladies: http://www.providencerollerderby.com/ I don't know. I'm thinking I'm going to give it a try. Just once. It'll only be during a practice and I was told I don't have to participate in drills - which means, unless I fall on my own, I won't be subject to bruising, pushing, or broken teeth. So Why Not? I'll write more if/when this happens. Until then - imagine me - doing this:
Are you laughing yet? I am.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Exercise, Control, and Sunday Grocery Nightmares
Another lunchtime post...
I have always been a fairly active person. I have always tried to get exercise in at least three days a week - and I have mostly been successful in that effort. Lately, though, I've become somewhat obsessed with exercise. Everyday for about three weeks, I've tied on my running shoes, or put on my swimsuit at least once a day and gotten at least 35-40 minutes of aerobic exercise. Some days I'm doing both a run and a swim. And at least 4 days a week, I've spent some time doing yoga or pilates or some other kind of toning. The result - a net loss of 16 lbs since my appointment with my Endo back in May.
I must admit, I think I'm getting a little addicted. I'm actually enjoying, most days, the energy that comes with increasing activity. I'm getting up earlier, I've lost a dress size - (which does me no good at the moment since I'm not going to go out buying new clothes and lots of my things are hanging off of me), and I'm more aware of my eating because I hate to ruin my efforts with poor consumption habits. So - here's to continued daily exercise. Made easier, I think, by my new friend.
You'd think that an increase in exercise would decrease my overall insulin needs - right? Hmmmm... Not quite. Perhaps it's stress, or the heat, or something else - but my needs during the day have been increasing over the past few days. And my morning bloodsugars have been mostly low or high - with only a precious few days anywhere near my target. It's frustrating me to no end. I'm freaked out as I watch my TDD increase, even as I'm working hard to eat well and exercise. Any ideas as to why this could be happening?
Finally - Sunday Grocery Store Nightmares. I went to the local grocery store yesterday to pick up stuff for the week. The place was, as it usually is on a Sunday afternoon, a total zoo. Children everywhere - pushing carts into my shins, screaming down the aisles - a kid on the front of the cart like one of those women on the front of a pirate ship and another pushing as if his life depends on it and then jumping up and riding top-speed toward innocent passersby. People standing right in the middle of the aisle, cart blocking the right of way, reading boxes and generally getting in the way. I do most of my shopping and then head for the deli.
I find grocery store delis to be incredibly uncomfortable, especially when they're crowded. All those people, all in one place, and you can feel the energy of everyone being annoyed at having to take a number and having to wait and being inconvenienced by all the other wait-ers. It's kind of terrible. I take my number and stand with a mass of other people trying to breath and not feed the bad-energy torrent. I am in my own little fantasy land.
A tall, dark-haired man stands to my right. "It looks like you eat pretty healthy," I hear him say.
"Oh." I realize he's talking to me... "Yeah, I guess so." My knee jerk reaction is to look at his cart. I see water, fruit, bread... Not that different from what's in my cart.
"Don't you hate this?" He asks.
I'm a little uncomfortable now... But I respond, "Waiting at the deli, you mean?"
"No," he laughs, "Grocery shopping."
"Oh. No. But I do hate waiting at the deli."
"Yeah, I guess this part kind of sucks. So - pretty girl like you got a boyfriend?" He asks...
What??? This is not happening. I am at the grocery store. I have no make up on. I am wearing yoga pants, a totally ratty t-shirt, and sneakers. And I'm at the GROCERY STORE... Is this guy trying to pick me up? It is all I can do to stifle a burst of raucous laughter.
"Oh, yeah, I do," I say.
He looks - what? Disappointed? Surprised (I mean, I looked terrible)? Amused, maybe (at how uncomfortable he was able to make me)?
"Too bad." He says. And we stand there in silence.
I was unreasonably grateful when his number was called and he stepped away to place his order. He got his things - with me still waiting on my turn at bat - and as he wheeled away, he gave a little wave and said "See you."
I mumble "See ya."
Although I have to say I was a bit flattered by the whole thing, I was mostly just surprised and amused. First of all - I didn't know that people looked to pick other people up at the grocery store. And - you had to have seen me to get the full picture of how truly awful I looked. I laughed all the way home.
Now, I feel almost obliged to try to look at least half way decent next time I go to the grocery store. I mean, really, like I'm going to a meat market... Or maybe I just shouldn't go to the market anymore - avoid feeling uncomfortable altogether.
What's more amusing? I don't think I could pick the guy that tried to pick me up out of a line up if I had to. When, upon hearing this story, my friend Mona asked what he looked like, I had to admit "I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention."
I have always been a fairly active person. I have always tried to get exercise in at least three days a week - and I have mostly been successful in that effort. Lately, though, I've become somewhat obsessed with exercise. Everyday for about three weeks, I've tied on my running shoes, or put on my swimsuit at least once a day and gotten at least 35-40 minutes of aerobic exercise. Some days I'm doing both a run and a swim. And at least 4 days a week, I've spent some time doing yoga or pilates or some other kind of toning. The result - a net loss of 16 lbs since my appointment with my Endo back in May.
I must admit, I think I'm getting a little addicted. I'm actually enjoying, most days, the energy that comes with increasing activity. I'm getting up earlier, I've lost a dress size - (which does me no good at the moment since I'm not going to go out buying new clothes and lots of my things are hanging off of me), and I'm more aware of my eating because I hate to ruin my efforts with poor consumption habits. So - here's to continued daily exercise. Made easier, I think, by my new friend.
You'd think that an increase in exercise would decrease my overall insulin needs - right? Hmmmm... Not quite. Perhaps it's stress, or the heat, or something else - but my needs during the day have been increasing over the past few days. And my morning bloodsugars have been mostly low or high - with only a precious few days anywhere near my target. It's frustrating me to no end. I'm freaked out as I watch my TDD increase, even as I'm working hard to eat well and exercise. Any ideas as to why this could be happening?
Finally - Sunday Grocery Store Nightmares. I went to the local grocery store yesterday to pick up stuff for the week. The place was, as it usually is on a Sunday afternoon, a total zoo. Children everywhere - pushing carts into my shins, screaming down the aisles - a kid on the front of the cart like one of those women on the front of a pirate ship and another pushing as if his life depends on it and then jumping up and riding top-speed toward innocent passersby. People standing right in the middle of the aisle, cart blocking the right of way, reading boxes and generally getting in the way. I do most of my shopping and then head for the deli.
I find grocery store delis to be incredibly uncomfortable, especially when they're crowded. All those people, all in one place, and you can feel the energy of everyone being annoyed at having to take a number and having to wait and being inconvenienced by all the other wait-ers. It's kind of terrible. I take my number and stand with a mass of other people trying to breath and not feed the bad-energy torrent. I am in my own little fantasy land.
A tall, dark-haired man stands to my right. "It looks like you eat pretty healthy," I hear him say.
"Oh." I realize he's talking to me... "Yeah, I guess so." My knee jerk reaction is to look at his cart. I see water, fruit, bread... Not that different from what's in my cart.
"Don't you hate this?" He asks.
I'm a little uncomfortable now... But I respond, "Waiting at the deli, you mean?"
"No," he laughs, "Grocery shopping."
"Oh. No. But I do hate waiting at the deli."
"Yeah, I guess this part kind of sucks. So - pretty girl like you got a boyfriend?" He asks...
What??? This is not happening. I am at the grocery store. I have no make up on. I am wearing yoga pants, a totally ratty t-shirt, and sneakers. And I'm at the GROCERY STORE... Is this guy trying to pick me up? It is all I can do to stifle a burst of raucous laughter.
"Oh, yeah, I do," I say.
He looks - what? Disappointed? Surprised (I mean, I looked terrible)? Amused, maybe (at how uncomfortable he was able to make me)?
"Too bad." He says. And we stand there in silence.
I was unreasonably grateful when his number was called and he stepped away to place his order. He got his things - with me still waiting on my turn at bat - and as he wheeled away, he gave a little wave and said "See you."
I mumble "See ya."
Although I have to say I was a bit flattered by the whole thing, I was mostly just surprised and amused. First of all - I didn't know that people looked to pick other people up at the grocery store. And - you had to have seen me to get the full picture of how truly awful I looked. I laughed all the way home.
Now, I feel almost obliged to try to look at least half way decent next time I go to the grocery store. I mean, really, like I'm going to a meat market... Or maybe I just shouldn't go to the market anymore - avoid feeling uncomfortable altogether.
What's more amusing? I don't think I could pick the guy that tried to pick me up out of a line up if I had to. When, upon hearing this story, my friend Mona asked what he looked like, I had to admit "I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention."
Saturday, June 30, 2007
My First Workout with Blue
Now, don't think I'm being rash, but I know You're My Boy Blue is going to be good for me.
He played me an excellent selection for exercise tonight - 40 minutes worth!!!
Because the Night - 10,000 Maniacs
Shook Me - ACDC
Girlfriend's in a Coma - Mojo Nixon
Closer to Fine - Indigo Girls
Piece of My Heart - Janice Joplin
Brown Sugar - Rolling Stones
Sunday Morning Coming Down - Kris Kristoferson & Steve Earle
I Hate Myself for Loving You - Joan Jett
One Bourbon, One Shot, One Beer - George Thorogood
Dance, Mother F-er, Dance - Violent Femmes
Now at this point, I could have stopped, but I kind of had to hear the whole next song... See this is why this machine is good for me... HAD TO HEAR IT...
Hard Rain's Gonna Fall - Edie Brickell
Blue and I are gonna be friends...
Now, please go to DTF and sign up. They're nice.
He played me an excellent selection for exercise tonight - 40 minutes worth!!!
Because the Night - 10,000 Maniacs
Shook Me - ACDC
Girlfriend's in a Coma - Mojo Nixon
Closer to Fine - Indigo Girls
Piece of My Heart - Janice Joplin
Brown Sugar - Rolling Stones
Sunday Morning Coming Down - Kris Kristoferson & Steve Earle
I Hate Myself for Loving You - Joan Jett
One Bourbon, One Shot, One Beer - George Thorogood
Dance, Mother F-er, Dance - Violent Femmes
Now at this point, I could have stopped, but I kind of had to hear the whole next song... See this is why this machine is good for me... HAD TO HEAR IT...
Hard Rain's Gonna Fall - Edie Brickell
Blue and I are gonna be friends...
Now, please go to DTF and sign up. They're nice.
A Thank You and a Plug
This is me with my new Ipod Shuffle. It came with a card calling me "DTF Poet of the Year," which seriously made my awful day yesterday feel not so bad... OK - so I'm not looking all that hot - was just heading to get on the Elliptical Trainer - in total workout mode - but it's alright - because look at how CUTE my little Ipod Shuffle is. Sadly, I've not yet figured out how to make him sing...
EDIT: Still not singing, but he is configured and has a name... "You're My Boy Blue."
ANOTHER EDIT: "You're My Boy Blue" is singing. AWESOME. I <3 new toys.
So for those of you who don't know DTF is Diabetes Talk Fest - and they've got a great forum over there - which you should check out. Cool people, good conversation, a generally great place to be: Talk Fest Forum
The Forum held a poem contest recently - and I am honored that one of my poems was chosen from a field of amazingly funny, good writing...
Please go check out the forum - join - post... More networking fun for everyone.
EDIT: Still not singing, but he is configured and has a name... "You're My Boy Blue."
ANOTHER EDIT: "You're My Boy Blue" is singing. AWESOME. I <3 new toys.
So for those of you who don't know DTF is Diabetes Talk Fest - and they've got a great forum over there - which you should check out. Cool people, good conversation, a generally great place to be: Talk Fest Forum
The Forum held a poem contest recently - and I am honored that one of my poems was chosen from a field of amazingly funny, good writing...
Please go check out the forum - join - post... More networking fun for everyone.
Friday, June 29, 2007
An Update
Bloodsugar finally down to 139. Check
Excellent DOC friend emailed to give support re: Gert. Feeling better about the whole thing. Check
Deadline met. Check
Sh*t together. Yeah right... Not in less than four hours
So a little break. Right?
Excellent DOC friend emailed to give support re: Gert. Feeling better about the whole thing. Check
Deadline met. Check
Sh*t together. Yeah right... Not in less than four hours
So a little break. Right?
Can I have a break please?
Knowing the answer to the above asked question is no, I suppose I'll just write things out - look them over and then move on with the day.
My incredible bouncing bloodsugar... Has put me in a bit of a tailspin. Started the morning low - rebounded over 200 - seemed to start coming down - then popped right back up again. Enormously frustrating... I really would just like to go back to bed - or not test for the remainder of the day. Perhaps ignorance IS bliss? Unfortunately for me, my compulsive nature won't let me either go back to bed or retire my glucose meter for the afternoon. So, I'll continue to test and continue to get angry and frustrated - thus pushing my bloodsugar up further, I'm sure.
I couldn't get in touch with my friend Gertrude this morning. She's 96 - I've written about her here before. She's a great lady - but she is in her own words "too old to be alive." I call her on a daily basis to check in - essentially, acting as her safety net - if or when (really) something does happen to her - at least I'll be there to help in one way or another. The whole prospect is rather depressing - given what is likely to happen eventually. So - when she doesn't answer the phone, I get panicky. I think about all of the horrible things that could have happened, I fret about how I'm going to make time to get to her house to check, I let my imagination run wild about what I might find when I get there. She didn't answer this morning. I tried before I left the house - then made a stop in before work. She was, this morning, simply sleeping very soundly - as a 96 year old woman is wont to do. But the whole incident left me feeling unsettled. I mean - that was today - but what about tomorrow? Can I really handle this responsibility? Well - you see where this is going... I'm doubting myself in a major way.
This will be me for some of this afternoon. I finished up a grant project I'd been working on early yesterday and handed it up the ladder here at work. I am just waiting on one more response before I have to make edits. I love some parts of the writing for these proposals - however, there are some parts I hate. Eyeing the first of the two sets of edits - I can see that there are more edits in the parts I hate sections than the parts I like. So - fun hours in store this afternoon. I really need to figure out where I want to be career-wise. I'm feeling slightly "trapped" at the moment.
And other things. Lots of them. Worries, weird dreams, a chaotic mind filled with all sort of stuff that I need to just breath away (if only I could). This day needs to end, quickly.
But not before I get a run or swim in - try to bring this bloodsugar down, figure out these edits on a 4:00 postage deadline - and just generally get my sh*t together. And, of course, not before I finish writing this post - which is how I've chosen to spend my lunch hour.
Now that you've all had a taste of my day. Tell me about yours.
My incredible bouncing bloodsugar... Has put me in a bit of a tailspin. Started the morning low - rebounded over 200 - seemed to start coming down - then popped right back up again. Enormously frustrating... I really would just like to go back to bed - or not test for the remainder of the day. Perhaps ignorance IS bliss? Unfortunately for me, my compulsive nature won't let me either go back to bed or retire my glucose meter for the afternoon. So, I'll continue to test and continue to get angry and frustrated - thus pushing my bloodsugar up further, I'm sure.
I couldn't get in touch with my friend Gertrude this morning. She's 96 - I've written about her here before. She's a great lady - but she is in her own words "too old to be alive." I call her on a daily basis to check in - essentially, acting as her safety net - if or when (really) something does happen to her - at least I'll be there to help in one way or another. The whole prospect is rather depressing - given what is likely to happen eventually. So - when she doesn't answer the phone, I get panicky. I think about all of the horrible things that could have happened, I fret about how I'm going to make time to get to her house to check, I let my imagination run wild about what I might find when I get there. She didn't answer this morning. I tried before I left the house - then made a stop in before work. She was, this morning, simply sleeping very soundly - as a 96 year old woman is wont to do. But the whole incident left me feeling unsettled. I mean - that was today - but what about tomorrow? Can I really handle this responsibility? Well - you see where this is going... I'm doubting myself in a major way.
This will be me for some of this afternoon. I finished up a grant project I'd been working on early yesterday and handed it up the ladder here at work. I am just waiting on one more response before I have to make edits. I love some parts of the writing for these proposals - however, there are some parts I hate. Eyeing the first of the two sets of edits - I can see that there are more edits in the parts I hate sections than the parts I like. So - fun hours in store this afternoon. I really need to figure out where I want to be career-wise. I'm feeling slightly "trapped" at the moment.
And other things. Lots of them. Worries, weird dreams, a chaotic mind filled with all sort of stuff that I need to just breath away (if only I could). This day needs to end, quickly.
But not before I get a run or swim in - try to bring this bloodsugar down, figure out these edits on a 4:00 postage deadline - and just generally get my sh*t together. And, of course, not before I finish writing this post - which is how I've chosen to spend my lunch hour.
Now that you've all had a taste of my day. Tell me about yours.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
It must be that time of year
Another MeMe. This one stolen from Hannah...
Play along, people. I know you want to share.
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Nicole
2. Nic
3. Coley
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
Three? Geez.
1. My eyes.
2. My lower legs
3. My ears (What? They're cute ears.)
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
Only three?
1. My nose
2. My arms (although I would be sad if they left me)
3. My teeth
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Irish
2. Scottish
3. American
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Failure
2. Blindness
3. Letting myself be ignorant or apathetic
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Insulin Pump
2. Trusty Meter
3. Photos of my nephew
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. A very cool Pucci skirt that I got for CHEAP at a consigment shop in Providence
2. Bright Pink Top
3. Black Pumps
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE MUSICALS:
1. TTFA Putnam County Spelling Bee (listen to that soundtrack - so freaking funny)
2. Chicago
3. Camelot
THREE OF YOUR [current] FAVOURITE SONGS:
1. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds - the Beatles
2. Marlena on the Wall - Suzanne Vega
3. Girl Put Your Records On - Corinne Bailey Rae
4. (Because I never follow the rules) Birdhouse in your Soul - TMBG
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Communication
2. Understanding
3. Humor
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS THAT YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE:
1. Eyes
2. Shoulders
3. Good bone structure
(A nice voice doesn't hurt, either)
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:
1. Reading
2. Writing
3. Music
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Get out of here and do something
2. Drive to somewhere far away
3. Help the person currently jamming things in and out of the copier with their anger management issues.
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Writer (duh!)
2. Professional Cat Walker
3. Monkey Trainer
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. California again would be nice
2. Ireland again would also be nice
3. NYC is ALWAYS nice
THREE KIDS NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. Abigail
2. Madison
3. Lilly
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Fly (not in an airplane - like with a glider or parasail or something)
2. Live fully - love wholly - give everything I've got to make my life - and the lives of others around me - amazing.
3. Meet a monkey (yeah, I know)
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A CHICK:
1. I like perfume. A lot. I love to smell nice - and I love it when people tell me I smell nice.
2. I have a TON of shoes.
3. I am hyper sensitive.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1. I think certain jokes are funny that many women don't.
2. I like climbing trees (which I guess could make me stereotypically a big little kid)
3. I'm pretty tough, and I know I can take a punch.
THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. Vincent D'Onofrio
2. James Joyce
3. John Mayer
3.
Play along, people. I know you want to share.
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Nicole
2. Nic
3. Coley
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
Three? Geez.
1. My eyes.
2. My lower legs
3. My ears (What? They're cute ears.)
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
Only three?
1. My nose
2. My arms (although I would be sad if they left me)
3. My teeth
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Irish
2. Scottish
3. American
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Failure
2. Blindness
3. Letting myself be ignorant or apathetic
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Insulin Pump
2. Trusty Meter
3. Photos of my nephew
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. A very cool Pucci skirt that I got for CHEAP at a consigment shop in Providence
2. Bright Pink Top
3. Black Pumps
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE MUSICALS:
1. TTFA Putnam County Spelling Bee (listen to that soundtrack - so freaking funny)
2. Chicago
3. Camelot
THREE OF YOUR [current] FAVOURITE SONGS:
1. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds - the Beatles
2. Marlena on the Wall - Suzanne Vega
3. Girl Put Your Records On - Corinne Bailey Rae
4. (Because I never follow the rules) Birdhouse in your Soul - TMBG
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Communication
2. Understanding
3. Humor
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS THAT YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE:
1. Eyes
2. Shoulders
3. Good bone structure
(A nice voice doesn't hurt, either)
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:
1. Reading
2. Writing
3. Music
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Get out of here and do something
2. Drive to somewhere far away
3. Help the person currently jamming things in and out of the copier with their anger management issues.
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Writer (duh!)
2. Professional Cat Walker
3. Monkey Trainer
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. California again would be nice
2. Ireland again would also be nice
3. NYC is ALWAYS nice
THREE KIDS NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. Abigail
2. Madison
3. Lilly
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Fly (not in an airplane - like with a glider or parasail or something)
2. Live fully - love wholly - give everything I've got to make my life - and the lives of others around me - amazing.
3. Meet a monkey (yeah, I know)
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A CHICK:
1. I like perfume. A lot. I love to smell nice - and I love it when people tell me I smell nice.
2. I have a TON of shoes.
3. I am hyper sensitive.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1. I think certain jokes are funny that many women don't.
2. I like climbing trees (which I guess could make me stereotypically a big little kid)
3. I'm pretty tough, and I know I can take a punch.
THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. Vincent D'Onofrio
2. James Joyce
3. John Mayer
3.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Getting Across the Road
I met my dad, who's up from South Carolina, for breakfast today.
On the way home, I drove past a turtle in the middle of the road. I couldn't help myself - I had to get out and help the damn thing get across.
I should mention - when I was a kid, my cousin Michelle and I found a turtle on her front grass that had been hit by a car - but was still alive. The poor thing's shell was cracked into about thirty pieces. We forced my Aunt Mary to bring us, with the turtle, to the vet. There, the vet proclaimed the situation hopeless and put the turtle to sleep.
I couldn't let it happen again - could I?
I got out of the car - and realized how large this turtle is. And clearly it's a snapper - with its wide muscular neck and head.
I go back to my car and put on a sweatshirt I've got in the back seat. I'm going to move the turtle.
Shaking like a leaf, I position myself in back of the thing and try to pick it up as someone had shown me when I was a girl - hands toward the back feet, firm. The thing jerks its head out, snapping its whole body tight. Trying to keep my cool, I move my feet as fast as they'll carry me toward the nearby woods and stream. Then, the mouth opens, and the hissing begins, and it turns its had back toward my (thankfully) sleeved arm. Had I not known what was coming I would have dropped my "cute" little friend and high-tailed it back to my car. Instead, I moved even faster toward the woods - and placed the turtle as far back as I dare carry it.
It looks back at me as I retreat - still poised to eat my face.
The whole incident made me think of the way I am about my diabetes sometimes.
This morning, at breakfast, friends of my father joined us. I took out my pump to bolus for the English Muffin I'd eaten - and dad's well-meaning friend asked if I'd tested. I had, just before they'd arrived. She asked what my test was. 149, I said.
"OOOhhhh..." She remarked... Looking sorry. Looking like she felt terribly for me. I should mention, this woman's husband has type 2 diabetes and doesn't make much effort to control it.
I could have looked a lot like my turtle friend at that moment - I sure felt like him. Back off - go away - I'll bite you - I can do this MYSELF.
I guess it's like that here and there - I just want this disease to be mine. I don't want the assistance of others - however well-meant. I don't want the judgement of others - however justified or correct it might be.
I don't want pity - I just want to get across the road on my own.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
You Should Do This!
Go here and become a member of Tu Diabetes... A social networking site for people who've been touched my diabetes.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Remembering... For Memorial Day
As I drove to work this morning, I couldn’t get my Papa out of my head. I had this insistent, aching desire to see his face again. My father’s father served in the United States Marine Corps for almost 8 years. He fought, as did so many of his generation, in the Second World War.
But I didn’t know anything about that until I was a older.
Mostly, I knew my grandfather to be an eccentric, funny tough guy – who treated me not like a princess but like a fighter; like someone he loved AND respected. When I was diagnosed with diabetes, he came to the hospital. My mother said that as I slept, with an IV in my arm – too thin and too pale - he watched me – much as he had stood in the window of the nursery watching me sleep on the night I was born.
My grandfather had watched my grandmother struggle with type 2 diabetes (which in retrospect was probably type 1.5 – as she went on and off insulin for years and eventually succumbed to kidney failure) for many years. I have lots of vague recollections of the days around my diagnosis – and a few that are vivid – crystal clear. One of those clear memories is of my grandfather telling me “Coley, your parents don’t think you’re old enough to hear this, but THIS is your war. You will never give in to this, you will never stop believing that you are stronger than this disease. Do you understand that?” I nodded – even though I didn’t understand at all – I didn’t want to let my Papa down.
Maybe he knew that his words would stay in my mind, my heart for all these years – maybe he knew they’d remain – inspiring me and comforting me. Maybe he realized that when times got tough – I’d still have his confidence in me, his conviction that I’d be OK. I’ll never know. But I’ll always have that look of certainty on his face as he told me that I was strong.
I dream of him sometimes – usually of him in the driveway of his house working on his RV – cursing, laughing, having a beer. On occasion, I dream of him out of context – doing something strange or wondrous or ballsy. And when I ache to see him, as I do today, I take comfort in knowing that he’ll find me in those dreams.
***********************************************************************************
Just over a month ago, another of the greatest generation left us. Bob’s granddad – who had become over these past 8 years, a granddad for me, served on a PT boat in the Second World War. The first time I visited Bob’s parents home, I saw photos of Granddad in his uniform. Those photos were my first introduction to this amazing man. I knew just looking at them that I was going to like him. The thin lanky young man standing in his dress uniform in one of them had a devilish glint in his eye and a grin that made you think he was up to something.
A couple of weeks after meeting his photograph, I had the privilege of meeting the man. We sat in the living room of Bob’s grandparents home – a home that the two of us now share. Granddad took us on a tour and then pulled out an album of photos. I heard the story of his early life in Washington State and his mother Sarah. I heard of how he joined the Navy and went to war. I heard of his spying Bob’s Gram at a dance and his thinking she was an American Indian. I heard of how he knew he would marry her, of their building a family and a home together, of their riding motorcycles and taking boats out on the local river and living a life that was – at once – stable and adventurous.
I saw in this man - all of the amazing qualities he’d passed on to his children – and more importantly, to his grandson. They were the qualities I’d fallen in love with. Love of family, strength tempered by gentleness, an unrivaled work-ethic, a loyalty to friends and loved ones, spirituality that surpassed the bounds of organized religion, patience, and a willingness to work at relationships and love.
It broke my heart to watch Granddad stolen from us. Alzheimer’s Disease is slow and vicious. But I’ll tell you – in the year before he died – there were a few moments when I could see that man I’d met all those years before. Sometimes, it was just the glint in those blue eyes – sometimes it was as he told us a story of days passed.
Now that he’s gone, I see Granddad everyday in the man I love. I see him in the person that has stolen my heart – a person worthy of everything in my soul.
But I didn’t know anything about that until I was a older.
Mostly, I knew my grandfather to be an eccentric, funny tough guy – who treated me not like a princess but like a fighter; like someone he loved AND respected. When I was diagnosed with diabetes, he came to the hospital. My mother said that as I slept, with an IV in my arm – too thin and too pale - he watched me – much as he had stood in the window of the nursery watching me sleep on the night I was born.
My grandfather had watched my grandmother struggle with type 2 diabetes (which in retrospect was probably type 1.5 – as she went on and off insulin for years and eventually succumbed to kidney failure) for many years. I have lots of vague recollections of the days around my diagnosis – and a few that are vivid – crystal clear. One of those clear memories is of my grandfather telling me “Coley, your parents don’t think you’re old enough to hear this, but THIS is your war. You will never give in to this, you will never stop believing that you are stronger than this disease. Do you understand that?” I nodded – even though I didn’t understand at all – I didn’t want to let my Papa down.
Maybe he knew that his words would stay in my mind, my heart for all these years – maybe he knew they’d remain – inspiring me and comforting me. Maybe he realized that when times got tough – I’d still have his confidence in me, his conviction that I’d be OK. I’ll never know. But I’ll always have that look of certainty on his face as he told me that I was strong.
I dream of him sometimes – usually of him in the driveway of his house working on his RV – cursing, laughing, having a beer. On occasion, I dream of him out of context – doing something strange or wondrous or ballsy. And when I ache to see him, as I do today, I take comfort in knowing that he’ll find me in those dreams.
***********************************************************************************
Just over a month ago, another of the greatest generation left us. Bob’s granddad – who had become over these past 8 years, a granddad for me, served on a PT boat in the Second World War. The first time I visited Bob’s parents home, I saw photos of Granddad in his uniform. Those photos were my first introduction to this amazing man. I knew just looking at them that I was going to like him. The thin lanky young man standing in his dress uniform in one of them had a devilish glint in his eye and a grin that made you think he was up to something.
A couple of weeks after meeting his photograph, I had the privilege of meeting the man. We sat in the living room of Bob’s grandparents home – a home that the two of us now share. Granddad took us on a tour and then pulled out an album of photos. I heard the story of his early life in Washington State and his mother Sarah. I heard of how he joined the Navy and went to war. I heard of his spying Bob’s Gram at a dance and his thinking she was an American Indian. I heard of how he knew he would marry her, of their building a family and a home together, of their riding motorcycles and taking boats out on the local river and living a life that was – at once – stable and adventurous.
I saw in this man - all of the amazing qualities he’d passed on to his children – and more importantly, to his grandson. They were the qualities I’d fallen in love with. Love of family, strength tempered by gentleness, an unrivaled work-ethic, a loyalty to friends and loved ones, spirituality that surpassed the bounds of organized religion, patience, and a willingness to work at relationships and love.
It broke my heart to watch Granddad stolen from us. Alzheimer’s Disease is slow and vicious. But I’ll tell you – in the year before he died – there were a few moments when I could see that man I’d met all those years before. Sometimes, it was just the glint in those blue eyes – sometimes it was as he told us a story of days passed.
Now that he’s gone, I see Granddad everyday in the man I love. I see him in the person that has stolen my heart – a person worthy of everything in my soul.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Short but sweet. Or not so sweet.
A quick update.
I am hoping that some of you might have a chance and be willing to go here and support my efforts to fight breast cancer in honor of my Aunt Kaye McDonnell - who has been fighting breast cancer for several years. My Aunt Kaye is an inspiring, funny, tough New England native with a rasp of a voice, a penchant for collecting animals at her Maine Farmhouse, and a job as a victim witness advocate with the state. She is soulful and gentle and strong at once. She means the world to me. I walk in her honor!
Please help today!
I have come to realize over the past few weeks that I am compulsively fickle. A true mess of confusion - never really knowing what I want at all. There are a few parts of my life that aren't like that - a few parts that make me feel solid and sturdy and sure. But mostly - I'm fickle and flighty. Not exactly a bonus for organizations, companies, hobbies, and sometimes (but not all that often) people with whom I associate.
Had my endo appointment today... Here's how it breaks down.
Weight - Gained 2 lbs since January. This does not make ANY sense. I have cut calories and have been exercising faithfully. But there it is.
Unfortunately, my endo forgot to order my thyroid test - which might explain this nonsensical weight gain. We set it up for next time though.
A1C - 6.0 - Not too shabby, but higher than my last A1C of 5.8 - I attribute the slight rise to cutting out more lows. Which is a good thing.
LDL - Still not under 100 (just over at 105) but this is better than 149, where I was before. I still need work. Hopefully, continual exercise, medication, and my healthier diet will rein it in some more. I am also going to start on Fish Oil caplets. I wish I could take a statin. But I can't tolerate them at all. So - I battle my genetic make up (two parents, two brothers, and two sets of grandparents all make for a nasty family history of high cholesterol) with less than superior but better than none tools.
Kidney Function - Excellent!
Protein in Urine? "Not even a trace"
Blood Pressure 116/70 - great.
My feet apparently look OK.
In other diabetes news - I am returning my Animas 2020. Honestly, this is a tough decision to have made. I found that the inconveniences really outweighed the advantages of this gadget. I am going to get the Cozmo upgrade - which will give me the food database that I really wanted with the Animas without the things I didn't care for. What are those things, you ask?
The button pushing. In today's world - giving insulin in meetings and around others and trying to do so covertly is made very difficult when the number of buttons that need pushing to accomplish delivery is doubled. Sometimes, I would think I'd finished a task and I hadn't.
The one push bolus canceling thing. When you give a bolus with this machine and then put your pump away immediately, you run the risk of accidentally hitting a button - any button - and canceling the bolus. Weird, they make you confirm everything else with this pump with several button pushes, but canceling insulin delivery only takes on push. Not good. I have canceled boluses and not realized it. Not good.
The lack of software. This pump was supposed to come with software that enhances it. It did not. I cannot get an answer about when I'll have my software. And when I do - I'm wondering if I'll even like it, given how unhappy I am already.
So - I don't want a pump that's going to sit in my closet, waiting for me to use it. Especially since my insurance won't pay for another one for four years.
I think this pump might work for some people - but it wasn't the right fit for me. And this has nothing to do with my being fickle. I think.
That's it for now.
More Later.
I am hoping that some of you might have a chance and be willing to go here and support my efforts to fight breast cancer in honor of my Aunt Kaye McDonnell - who has been fighting breast cancer for several years. My Aunt Kaye is an inspiring, funny, tough New England native with a rasp of a voice, a penchant for collecting animals at her Maine Farmhouse, and a job as a victim witness advocate with the state. She is soulful and gentle and strong at once. She means the world to me. I walk in her honor!
Please help today!
I have come to realize over the past few weeks that I am compulsively fickle. A true mess of confusion - never really knowing what I want at all. There are a few parts of my life that aren't like that - a few parts that make me feel solid and sturdy and sure. But mostly - I'm fickle and flighty. Not exactly a bonus for organizations, companies, hobbies, and sometimes (but not all that often) people with whom I associate.
Had my endo appointment today... Here's how it breaks down.
Weight - Gained 2 lbs since January. This does not make ANY sense. I have cut calories and have been exercising faithfully. But there it is.
Unfortunately, my endo forgot to order my thyroid test - which might explain this nonsensical weight gain. We set it up for next time though.
A1C - 6.0 - Not too shabby, but higher than my last A1C of 5.8 - I attribute the slight rise to cutting out more lows. Which is a good thing.
LDL - Still not under 100 (just over at 105) but this is better than 149, where I was before. I still need work. Hopefully, continual exercise, medication, and my healthier diet will rein it in some more. I am also going to start on Fish Oil caplets. I wish I could take a statin. But I can't tolerate them at all. So - I battle my genetic make up (two parents, two brothers, and two sets of grandparents all make for a nasty family history of high cholesterol) with less than superior but better than none tools.
Kidney Function - Excellent!
Protein in Urine? "Not even a trace"
Blood Pressure 116/70 - great.
My feet apparently look OK.
In other diabetes news - I am returning my Animas 2020. Honestly, this is a tough decision to have made. I found that the inconveniences really outweighed the advantages of this gadget. I am going to get the Cozmo upgrade - which will give me the food database that I really wanted with the Animas without the things I didn't care for. What are those things, you ask?
The button pushing. In today's world - giving insulin in meetings and around others and trying to do so covertly is made very difficult when the number of buttons that need pushing to accomplish delivery is doubled. Sometimes, I would think I'd finished a task and I hadn't.
The one push bolus canceling thing. When you give a bolus with this machine and then put your pump away immediately, you run the risk of accidentally hitting a button - any button - and canceling the bolus. Weird, they make you confirm everything else with this pump with several button pushes, but canceling insulin delivery only takes on push. Not good. I have canceled boluses and not realized it. Not good.
The lack of software. This pump was supposed to come with software that enhances it. It did not. I cannot get an answer about when I'll have my software. And when I do - I'm wondering if I'll even like it, given how unhappy I am already.
So - I don't want a pump that's going to sit in my closet, waiting for me to use it. Especially since my insurance won't pay for another one for four years.
I think this pump might work for some people - but it wasn't the right fit for me. And this has nothing to do with my being fickle. I think.
That's it for now.
More Later.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Does being the spouse of a diabetic always make someone a negative force?
I was going to post something more. But I'm going to just leave it at this:
Diabetes does not make you lazy.
Diabetes does not make you sensitive. Being a feeling human does that.
It is not a curse to be married to a diabetic. In fact, I know many people who value, love, and respect their diabetic partners - even when they're being screamed at during their partners' lows, watching their partners' suffer through highs, or enduring their partners' generally blowing off having this disease and probably getting themselves into trouble. Some stand by, some support, encourage, demand - I've not heard many that are accusatory and angry and mean - insisting that the diabetic should just "get on with their life." I pray that no one ever tells my boyfriend that their prayer is that he not marry a diabetic. I pray that no one ever tells my young diabetic counterparts that their prayer is that they not marry a diabetic. Imagine how much that could hurt someone - even if their diabetes has not made them overly sensitive.
I have had diabetes for 25 years. That's long enough to know the rollercoaster first hand.
It's also long enough for me to know the potential my body has to malfunction and the strong likelihood that it will. The fact that I accept in silence - and sometimes not - that my kidneys MIGHT fail, my eyesight MIGHT go, my hands or feet MIGHT end up altered or gone - does not mean that I don't know these things could - or are even very likely to - happen - it just means that I've armed myself for battle with this disease and my venting is more about my day to day struggles, the challenge of "getting on with my life." MOST of us know EXACTLY what this disease is capable of - how it may ravage us.
I am not selfish. Diabetes has not made me selfish, even afer twenty five years. I know that when I'm low, I can be mean, vicious. Sometimes, I forget the horrible things I've said - sometimes I lose entire hours - there have been times I've lost even more time than that. I know that my partner struggles, I know I've hurt him in my low or high rages - I know that the prospect of a future with complications scares him, angers him, frustrates him. I am terribly grateful that even when he expresses his frustrations in writing, his ire is aimed at diabetes - not at me.
In the years I ignored my diabetes - prefering to be thin, vein, ignorant, or some other thing - I hurt people. I'm sorry about that. Again, though, I'm grateful to have had people in my life who recognized it was often the disease - not me.
All of these things to address generalizing.
A blog is a public forum - when you put things out there - you shouldn't be surprised when people react to them. When you start a post with a question like the one I started mine with, you should expect that people will be hurt - that you're implying something about them based on just one piece of their being - or based on your experiences with just one person who shares that piece of their being. Even if what you're implying is wrong/untrue - it still hurts.
Diabetes and denial and frustration with it is difficult for us all. But generalizing about people with diabetes - and those who love and care for them solves nothing. We've got to recognize that our venting sometimes hurts others. Sure, we could stop reading - but when the headline alone hurts and it flashes in your face - what then?
In the end - I owe an apology. I reacted in anger - and snapped - instead of thinking and fleshing out as I've done above.
Diabetes does not make you lazy.
Diabetes does not make you sensitive. Being a feeling human does that.
It is not a curse to be married to a diabetic. In fact, I know many people who value, love, and respect their diabetic partners - even when they're being screamed at during their partners' lows, watching their partners' suffer through highs, or enduring their partners' generally blowing off having this disease and probably getting themselves into trouble. Some stand by, some support, encourage, demand - I've not heard many that are accusatory and angry and mean - insisting that the diabetic should just "get on with their life." I pray that no one ever tells my boyfriend that their prayer is that he not marry a diabetic. I pray that no one ever tells my young diabetic counterparts that their prayer is that they not marry a diabetic. Imagine how much that could hurt someone - even if their diabetes has not made them overly sensitive.
I have had diabetes for 25 years. That's long enough to know the rollercoaster first hand.
It's also long enough for me to know the potential my body has to malfunction and the strong likelihood that it will. The fact that I accept in silence - and sometimes not - that my kidneys MIGHT fail, my eyesight MIGHT go, my hands or feet MIGHT end up altered or gone - does not mean that I don't know these things could - or are even very likely to - happen - it just means that I've armed myself for battle with this disease and my venting is more about my day to day struggles, the challenge of "getting on with my life." MOST of us know EXACTLY what this disease is capable of - how it may ravage us.
I am not selfish. Diabetes has not made me selfish, even afer twenty five years. I know that when I'm low, I can be mean, vicious. Sometimes, I forget the horrible things I've said - sometimes I lose entire hours - there have been times I've lost even more time than that. I know that my partner struggles, I know I've hurt him in my low or high rages - I know that the prospect of a future with complications scares him, angers him, frustrates him. I am terribly grateful that even when he expresses his frustrations in writing, his ire is aimed at diabetes - not at me.
In the years I ignored my diabetes - prefering to be thin, vein, ignorant, or some other thing - I hurt people. I'm sorry about that. Again, though, I'm grateful to have had people in my life who recognized it was often the disease - not me.
All of these things to address generalizing.
A blog is a public forum - when you put things out there - you shouldn't be surprised when people react to them. When you start a post with a question like the one I started mine with, you should expect that people will be hurt - that you're implying something about them based on just one piece of their being - or based on your experiences with just one person who shares that piece of their being. Even if what you're implying is wrong/untrue - it still hurts.
Diabetes and denial and frustration with it is difficult for us all. But generalizing about people with diabetes - and those who love and care for them solves nothing. We've got to recognize that our venting sometimes hurts others. Sure, we could stop reading - but when the headline alone hurts and it flashes in your face - what then?
In the end - I owe an apology. I reacted in anger - and snapped - instead of thinking and fleshing out as I've done above.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Some updates for you - Wedding, New Pump, Family, Things...
The wedding was good. Lots of fun. There were several real freak-out moments by our bride in the three days preceding – but when the wedding actually started, she was calm – collected – and had a great day.
I have made a determination about brides in general, though. This is a photo of a bride in its natural habitat before its wedding:
I challenge you to defy this statement.
Oh and I made the scene in my very satiny dress, feeling much like a beached whale. I guess that is the way of the bridesmaid sometimes though, isn’t it?
Between 11 am (when the wedding started) and 3:30 am (when must of us finally when back to our respective hotel rooms) I downed more Pearl Harbors than I really needed to and then proceeded into a bottle of Boone’s Farm.
The hours between 4:00 am and 7:00 am were not nearly as pleasant at the one’s before. Joy!
*********************************************************************************
In pump news. I am squarely on the fence with my love for my new pump – and my annoyance with some of its quirks. The food database has been enormously helpful, the screen is cool, and the size of the thing makes it easy to hide in my bra – something I could not do with my Cozmo. The extra button pushing can be a pain in the butt. Not so bad.
But I have now cancelled four boluses without knowing it until an hour later when my pump has vibrated angrily against my hip. With other pumps – you have to confirm you want to cancel before the bolus is cancelled – with this one – it’s just one button push – so if I hit it just right – it cancels. It apparently alarms to let me know – and I don’t know why I’m not hearing the alarms – I’m just not. At one hour, if the user hasn’t confirmed that they know the pump has cancelled the bolus, it starts to vibrate – so at least I’m catching it then.
So these things are taking some getting used to. I am anxious to receive my new software so that I can really personalize my new gadget – make the food DB even more useable – set an alarm that might actually register with me.
The great news is, bloodsugars have been fairly stable. My meter average is 137 mg/dl. The past two days have been a nice, smooth ride. Today looked like my diabetic dream:
7 am – 109
10 am – 145
12 noon – 135
2 pm – 116
5 pm – 89
I have had fewer large swings in the past week – especially after meals. So maybe my new little buddy has something to do with that. Or maybe it’s just “new pump theory –“ You know? You get a new pump with new features and you’re just all over it – all over diabetes – all high (or not high) on sugars and carb counting and such… New pump=Temporary improvement in control??
**********************************************************************************
My nephew Daniel turned one year old this week. He simply could not be cuter. We saw him at his birthday party. Daniel and our family could still use your prayers. His eyesight appears to have improved considerably, but he has some developmental delays – with regard to his movement and leg and neck muscle strength really need to improve. They are working with early intervention – and he’s making progress. But this little one’s been through so much already – 3 surgeries in just his first year of life… So any good thoughts you can send would be very much appreciated.
My brother Eric also had surgery this week. I shall not discuss it in any detail here as the procedure was just gross… But he’s home and recovering – so think well for him – pretty please!
**********************************************************************************
In closing, my house is a mess. I know, I know – boring. But has anyone else noticed how time just seems to run right away on us? I keep thinking “Oh I’ll do it this weekend” Then something crops up, someone needs a favor, I have to work AGAIN… And my house is just a mess. So tonight – on a Friday – I am going to Target and buying some new cleaning supplies – hoping that “new pump theory” might apply the same way to cleaning; New cleaning gadgets = Temporary improvement in the cleanliness of the house? Hopefully this mad hypothesis isn’t such weird science. Hell – it makes sense to me….
Not my house - but I wish it was!!! Hoola Hoops all around and undies - awesome!
I have made a determination about brides in general, though. This is a photo of a bride in its natural habitat before its wedding:
I challenge you to defy this statement.
Oh and I made the scene in my very satiny dress, feeling much like a beached whale. I guess that is the way of the bridesmaid sometimes though, isn’t it?
Between 11 am (when the wedding started) and 3:30 am (when must of us finally when back to our respective hotel rooms) I downed more Pearl Harbors than I really needed to and then proceeded into a bottle of Boone’s Farm.
The hours between 4:00 am and 7:00 am were not nearly as pleasant at the one’s before. Joy!
*********************************************************************************
In pump news. I am squarely on the fence with my love for my new pump – and my annoyance with some of its quirks. The food database has been enormously helpful, the screen is cool, and the size of the thing makes it easy to hide in my bra – something I could not do with my Cozmo. The extra button pushing can be a pain in the butt. Not so bad.
But I have now cancelled four boluses without knowing it until an hour later when my pump has vibrated angrily against my hip. With other pumps – you have to confirm you want to cancel before the bolus is cancelled – with this one – it’s just one button push – so if I hit it just right – it cancels. It apparently alarms to let me know – and I don’t know why I’m not hearing the alarms – I’m just not. At one hour, if the user hasn’t confirmed that they know the pump has cancelled the bolus, it starts to vibrate – so at least I’m catching it then.
So these things are taking some getting used to. I am anxious to receive my new software so that I can really personalize my new gadget – make the food DB even more useable – set an alarm that might actually register with me.
The great news is, bloodsugars have been fairly stable. My meter average is 137 mg/dl. The past two days have been a nice, smooth ride. Today looked like my diabetic dream:
7 am – 109
10 am – 145
12 noon – 135
2 pm – 116
5 pm – 89
I have had fewer large swings in the past week – especially after meals. So maybe my new little buddy has something to do with that. Or maybe it’s just “new pump theory –“ You know? You get a new pump with new features and you’re just all over it – all over diabetes – all high (or not high) on sugars and carb counting and such… New pump=Temporary improvement in control??
**********************************************************************************
My nephew Daniel turned one year old this week. He simply could not be cuter. We saw him at his birthday party. Daniel and our family could still use your prayers. His eyesight appears to have improved considerably, but he has some developmental delays – with regard to his movement and leg and neck muscle strength really need to improve. They are working with early intervention – and he’s making progress. But this little one’s been through so much already – 3 surgeries in just his first year of life… So any good thoughts you can send would be very much appreciated.
My brother Eric also had surgery this week. I shall not discuss it in any detail here as the procedure was just gross… But he’s home and recovering – so think well for him – pretty please!
**********************************************************************************
In closing, my house is a mess. I know, I know – boring. But has anyone else noticed how time just seems to run right away on us? I keep thinking “Oh I’ll do it this weekend” Then something crops up, someone needs a favor, I have to work AGAIN… And my house is just a mess. So tonight – on a Friday – I am going to Target and buying some new cleaning supplies – hoping that “new pump theory” might apply the same way to cleaning; New cleaning gadgets = Temporary improvement in the cleanliness of the house? Hopefully this mad hypothesis isn’t such weird science. Hell – it makes sense to me….
Not my house - but I wish it was!!! Hoola Hoops all around and undies - awesome!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Have a Nice Weekend...
Off to wear the dress - sans tan...
We've got three days of thing leading up to Saturday - beginning tonight. Wish me luck in my efforts as a bridesmaid...
We've got three days of thing leading up to Saturday - beginning tonight. Wish me luck in my efforts as a bridesmaid...
Friday, April 13, 2007
Exciting news, tidbits, and a query
First - the news. I got my new pump!!!!! And even though all of the manuals and other things from Animas say I should not go ahead with pumping on insulin without official pump training – I couldn’t help myself.
My initial review: there are definitely a few more steps to accomplish some things compared with the Cozmo – but the screen is AMAZING, the food database is probably one of the coolest diabetes gizmos I’ve ever seen, and I love that mine was set to play the Mexican Hate Dance Song (I kid you not) as an alarm when I first got it.
More to come regarding the new gadget… Later.
Tidbits: This weekend should be fun. Although I have to work tomorrow, I’m hoping to get in some time in the yard in the morning. We’ve got a huge yard in our new home – and this will be our first spring and summer there – so I’ll be fixing up the flower boxes, using the rider mower that Bob’s granddad left us to mow our expansive lawn, and painting the farmyard style fence and the front porch over the next few weeks. I’d love to get started tomorrow – I guess we’ll see. On Sunday, Bob and I are going to Westerly, RI and Stonington, CT to just hang around. There’s water, some cool historical sites, and a restaurant he wants to check out there. Mostly, I’ll just enjoy the hour ride there with good music and great conversation and a hopefully sunny day with one of my best friends.
Finally - a confession - and the query... I’ll admit it, sometimes I wish I had a new face. I look in the mirror and realize I hate the size of my nose, and the set of my eyes, and my big horsey-looking teeth. I flash back often to when I was ten and saved about 5 weeks worth of allowance so that I could go to the drugstore and buy some Porcelana Skin Cream to get rid of my freckles. Even now, I’ve not abandoned the idea of some miracle substance being discovered that might rid my face of my sun spots.
This confession to tell you a bit about a woman I work with. She is helping us out with an auction for an event we’re doing this summer. She is frighteningly determined to obtain one item in particular for the auction. She wants to get a plastic surgeon to donate surgery. She told me the other night that she already has her heart set on being the winning bidder for this prize she’s securing. For an instant my mind blinked a “she’s out of her mind…” message… Then I realized, if I were in a similar financial position, maybe I’d not be that different. If I could afford to have my nostrils reshaped, my teeth veneered, the lines around my eyes ironed out – I just might do it…
So here’s the question I have for you – would you have plastic surgery? Is it a definite “yes” or “no” for you – would you absolutely love it or never even consider it? Or would you give it some thought - real thought - if you were in a position to afford it?
Consider this more useless data for my imaginary think-tank.
My initial review: there are definitely a few more steps to accomplish some things compared with the Cozmo – but the screen is AMAZING, the food database is probably one of the coolest diabetes gizmos I’ve ever seen, and I love that mine was set to play the Mexican Hate Dance Song (I kid you not) as an alarm when I first got it.
More to come regarding the new gadget… Later.
Tidbits: This weekend should be fun. Although I have to work tomorrow, I’m hoping to get in some time in the yard in the morning. We’ve got a huge yard in our new home – and this will be our first spring and summer there – so I’ll be fixing up the flower boxes, using the rider mower that Bob’s granddad left us to mow our expansive lawn, and painting the farmyard style fence and the front porch over the next few weeks. I’d love to get started tomorrow – I guess we’ll see. On Sunday, Bob and I are going to Westerly, RI and Stonington, CT to just hang around. There’s water, some cool historical sites, and a restaurant he wants to check out there. Mostly, I’ll just enjoy the hour ride there with good music and great conversation and a hopefully sunny day with one of my best friends.
Finally - a confession - and the query... I’ll admit it, sometimes I wish I had a new face. I look in the mirror and realize I hate the size of my nose, and the set of my eyes, and my big horsey-looking teeth. I flash back often to when I was ten and saved about 5 weeks worth of allowance so that I could go to the drugstore and buy some Porcelana Skin Cream to get rid of my freckles. Even now, I’ve not abandoned the idea of some miracle substance being discovered that might rid my face of my sun spots.
This confession to tell you a bit about a woman I work with. She is helping us out with an auction for an event we’re doing this summer. She is frighteningly determined to obtain one item in particular for the auction. She wants to get a plastic surgeon to donate surgery. She told me the other night that she already has her heart set on being the winning bidder for this prize she’s securing. For an instant my mind blinked a “she’s out of her mind…” message… Then I realized, if I were in a similar financial position, maybe I’d not be that different. If I could afford to have my nostrils reshaped, my teeth veneered, the lines around my eyes ironed out – I just might do it…
So here’s the question I have for you – would you have plastic surgery? Is it a definite “yes” or “no” for you – would you absolutely love it or never even consider it? Or would you give it some thought - real thought - if you were in a position to afford it?
Consider this more useless data for my imaginary think-tank.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Poll - Because I'm a freak show
See below for instructions... When you're done here, please mosie over to Bernard's and answer his much more meaningful questions.
If you have diabetes or your child or loved one has diabetes, please tell me, in comment form, what type of diabetes you or they have and what color your or their eyes are. This is for science, people - the science of my curious head...
Thank you in advance.
If you have diabetes or your child or loved one has diabetes, please tell me, in comment form, what type of diabetes you or they have and what color your or their eyes are. This is for science, people - the science of my curious head...
Thank you in advance.
Jaded?
Boy, the news out of Brazil is pretty amazing, isn’t it? It appears to be more of a boon for my newly diagnosed compadres. But is it more?
Could getting my spleen to create me some new insulin producing cells and then destroying my immune system and rebuilding it be an answer?
Or can you really replace an immune system without the body simply rebuilding itself – with all of its original flaws? The fact that one of these patients “relapsed” after a viral infection tells me that maybe it isn’t just our immune system, but something about our body’s ability to build an immune system that’s flawed.
I think I might be jaded.
I want to hope that this news will mean something in terms of my diabetes in the years to come – but my head and my heart are filled with sheer doubt.
Meanwhile, here in the United States, the Senate is hard at work - and the President is up to his usual tricks on the issue of embryonic stem cell research. This article from the Boston Globe is amazing. You should read it.
For now – I’m going back to work with a bloodsugar of 142 mg/dl and my insulin pump at my hip. Thankful for the brave scientists and moreover for the brave patients that have come before me and paved the way for my disease to be more effectively managed. Thankful also for the brave scientists and the moreover the brave patients studying and being studied as we inch our way toward a cure.
If nothing else, the news out of Brazil gives me a sense that there is more to know about the way my broken pancreas, issue-filled metabolic make up and flawed immune system work – and that there are people willing to theorize, to dream, to hope, to take a chance – and to fight to get to the bottom of things.
Maybe I’m not that jaded after all.
News out of Brazil
Stem cell treatment used for diabetes
In Brazil study, patients off insulin
By Karen Kaplan, Los Angeles Times | April 11, 2007
LOS ANGELES -- Researchers have demonstrated for the first time that the progression of Type-1 diabetes can be halted -- and possibly reversed -- by a stem cell transplant that preserves the body's diminishing ability to make insulin, according to a study published today.
The experimental therapy eliminated the need for insulin injections for months or even years in 14 of 15 patients who were recently diagnosed with the disease. One subject, a 30-year-old male, hasn't taken insulin since his stem cell transplant more than three years ago, according to the study in the Journal of the American Medical Association.
The study suggests a new avenue for treating the intractable disease, in which the immune system destroys insulin-producing beta cells in the pancreas. Without insulin, patients can't metabolize sugar and risk developing nerve damage, cardiovascular disease, kidney failure, and blindness.
Patients with Type-1 diabetes typically compensate by monitoring their blood sugar levels every few hours and injecting themselves with insulin as many as five times a day.
After the stem cell treatment, "patients are absolutely medication-free; they're off insulin," said Dr. Richard Burt, chief of the division of immunotherapy at Northwestern University's Feinberg School of Medicine and senior author of the study.
The strategy is similar to an approach showing some success in treating other immune-system disorders, such as rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, and multiple sclerosis.
"We all realize that without addressing the problem at the level of the immune system, we'll never really beat Type-1 diabetes," said Dr. Francisco Prieto, who treats diabetics in Elk Grove, Calif., and wasn't involved in the study. "This is very encouraging work."
Burt and his colleagues cautioned that they don't yet know whether the fix is permanent and, if it is not, how long it will last. One of the subjects was insulin-free for one year but then relapsed after a respiratory viral infection, said lead author Dr. Julio Voltarelli, associate professor at Ribeirao Preto Medical School at the University of Sao Paulo in Brazil.
The researchers also cautioned that the process is not without risk, with patients vulnerable to infection during part of the therapy.
But other doctors said that even if the benefits of the therapy are temporary, the research provides valuable insight into the mechanism behind the disease.
The Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation in New York estimates that as many as 3 million Americans have Type-1 diabetes, with between 30,000 and 35,000 new cases diagnosed each year.
The age of onset is considerably younger than for Type-2 diabetes patients, who can still make insulin but can't use it efficiently.
The stem cell approach mirrors the bone marrow transplants used to treat patients with certain cancers and blood diseases. The idea is to wipe out the faulty immune system and replace it .
In the study, 15 Brazilian patients were treated within a few months of their diagnosis, before their immune systems had the chance to eradicate all of their insulin-producing cells.
The study was conducted in Brazil because of Voltarelli's interest in the experiment. It was funded by the Brazilian Ministry of Health and other sources.
The patients, who ranged in age from 14 to 31, were treated with drugs and hormones that prompted the body to produce hematopoietic stem cells and send them from the bone marrow into the bloodstream, where they were extracted by a special machine.
About two weeks later, the patients checked into the hospital and received chemotherapy and other drugs to kill off their immune systems over five days.
After a day of rest, they were infused with their own hematopoietic stem cells, which took about eight to 12 days to establish a new immune system. In the interim, they were given antibiotics to protect against infections.
The treatment had no effect on one patient, whose disease had already progressed too far, doctors decided. Of the remaining 14 patients, 12 were able to stop taking insulin shortly after their transplants. Altogether, five patients have not needed insulin injections for at least 23 months, and two have been
insulin-free for more than 18 months.
Even if patients continue to require insulin shots, the treatment should be considered a success if it halts the destruction of beta cells, said Dr. Jay Skyler, with the Diabetes Research Institute at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine, who wrote an editorial accompanying the study.
Could getting my spleen to create me some new insulin producing cells and then destroying my immune system and rebuilding it be an answer?
Or can you really replace an immune system without the body simply rebuilding itself – with all of its original flaws? The fact that one of these patients “relapsed” after a viral infection tells me that maybe it isn’t just our immune system, but something about our body’s ability to build an immune system that’s flawed.
I think I might be jaded.
I want to hope that this news will mean something in terms of my diabetes in the years to come – but my head and my heart are filled with sheer doubt.
Meanwhile, here in the United States, the Senate is hard at work - and the President is up to his usual tricks on the issue of embryonic stem cell research. This article from the Boston Globe is amazing. You should read it.
For now – I’m going back to work with a bloodsugar of 142 mg/dl and my insulin pump at my hip. Thankful for the brave scientists and moreover for the brave patients that have come before me and paved the way for my disease to be more effectively managed. Thankful also for the brave scientists and the moreover the brave patients studying and being studied as we inch our way toward a cure.
If nothing else, the news out of Brazil gives me a sense that there is more to know about the way my broken pancreas, issue-filled metabolic make up and flawed immune system work – and that there are people willing to theorize, to dream, to hope, to take a chance – and to fight to get to the bottom of things.
Maybe I’m not that jaded after all.
News out of Brazil
Stem cell treatment used for diabetes
In Brazil study, patients off insulin
By Karen Kaplan, Los Angeles Times | April 11, 2007
LOS ANGELES -- Researchers have demonstrated for the first time that the progression of Type-1 diabetes can be halted -- and possibly reversed -- by a stem cell transplant that preserves the body's diminishing ability to make insulin, according to a study published today.
The experimental therapy eliminated the need for insulin injections for months or even years in 14 of 15 patients who were recently diagnosed with the disease. One subject, a 30-year-old male, hasn't taken insulin since his stem cell transplant more than three years ago, according to the study in the Journal of the American Medical Association.
The study suggests a new avenue for treating the intractable disease, in which the immune system destroys insulin-producing beta cells in the pancreas. Without insulin, patients can't metabolize sugar and risk developing nerve damage, cardiovascular disease, kidney failure, and blindness.
Patients with Type-1 diabetes typically compensate by monitoring their blood sugar levels every few hours and injecting themselves with insulin as many as five times a day.
After the stem cell treatment, "patients are absolutely medication-free; they're off insulin," said Dr. Richard Burt, chief of the division of immunotherapy at Northwestern University's Feinberg School of Medicine and senior author of the study.
The strategy is similar to an approach showing some success in treating other immune-system disorders, such as rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, and multiple sclerosis.
"We all realize that without addressing the problem at the level of the immune system, we'll never really beat Type-1 diabetes," said Dr. Francisco Prieto, who treats diabetics in Elk Grove, Calif., and wasn't involved in the study. "This is very encouraging work."
Burt and his colleagues cautioned that they don't yet know whether the fix is permanent and, if it is not, how long it will last. One of the subjects was insulin-free for one year but then relapsed after a respiratory viral infection, said lead author Dr. Julio Voltarelli, associate professor at Ribeirao Preto Medical School at the University of Sao Paulo in Brazil.
The researchers also cautioned that the process is not without risk, with patients vulnerable to infection during part of the therapy.
But other doctors said that even if the benefits of the therapy are temporary, the research provides valuable insight into the mechanism behind the disease.
The Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation in New York estimates that as many as 3 million Americans have Type-1 diabetes, with between 30,000 and 35,000 new cases diagnosed each year.
The age of onset is considerably younger than for Type-2 diabetes patients, who can still make insulin but can't use it efficiently.
The stem cell approach mirrors the bone marrow transplants used to treat patients with certain cancers and blood diseases. The idea is to wipe out the faulty immune system and replace it .
In the study, 15 Brazilian patients were treated within a few months of their diagnosis, before their immune systems had the chance to eradicate all of their insulin-producing cells.
The study was conducted in Brazil because of Voltarelli's interest in the experiment. It was funded by the Brazilian Ministry of Health and other sources.
The patients, who ranged in age from 14 to 31, were treated with drugs and hormones that prompted the body to produce hematopoietic stem cells and send them from the bone marrow into the bloodstream, where they were extracted by a special machine.
About two weeks later, the patients checked into the hospital and received chemotherapy and other drugs to kill off their immune systems over five days.
After a day of rest, they were infused with their own hematopoietic stem cells, which took about eight to 12 days to establish a new immune system. In the interim, they were given antibiotics to protect against infections.
The treatment had no effect on one patient, whose disease had already progressed too far, doctors decided. Of the remaining 14 patients, 12 were able to stop taking insulin shortly after their transplants. Altogether, five patients have not needed insulin injections for at least 23 months, and two have been
insulin-free for more than 18 months.
Even if patients continue to require insulin shots, the treatment should be considered a success if it halts the destruction of beta cells, said Dr. Jay Skyler, with the Diabetes Research Institute at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine, who wrote an editorial accompanying the study.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Vote
Honestly - everytime I read an article like the one that follows, my heart just sinks. But then I think - a sinking heart does just that - and really what good is my disappointment if it festers as I stand by? There are things that I can and will do, especially given the promise of change that the next 18 months hold. I would encourage you to examine the candidates carefully as we head into the next presidential election - I'm not going to tell anyone who I think they should vote for, BUT I'll continue to remind myself - and others - that to vote is to exercise one of our most important privileges. And to vote with the appropriate level of knowledge around what your elected officials would do in situations that you think are important to you, your family, and your country is vital.
WASHINGTON - President Bush will again veto a bill to subsidize stem cell research using human embryos, but would sign an alternative that permits public funding for studies on embryos incapable of developing into fetuses, the White House said Tuesday.
Both bills are moving toward a Senate vote this week with a debate over a budding science that some researchers say could cure diseases that afflict millions of people.
The bill Bush opposes, sponsored by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (news, bio, voting record), D-Nev., would lift the president's 2001 ban on federal funding for any new embryonic stem cell studies.
Bush contends the measure crosses an ethical line because human embryos are destroyed in the process of extracting the stem cells, material that can morph into any tissue in the body and theoretically replace or heal damaged organs.
"The administration believes that research on alternative sources of stem cells is extremely promising and provides robust opportunities to advance science without compelling American taxpayers to participate in ongoing destruction of human embryos," the White House said in a statement.
If the measure passes both houses and reaches Bush's desk, "he would veto the bill," the statement said.
On the other hand, an alternative sponsored by Sen. Johnny Isakson (news, bio, voting record), R-Ga., would encourage research that does not harm budding human life, the administration said. That measure would direct taxpayer money to stem cell research on fertilized embryos that have passed the window of time in which they are capable of developing into a human being.
"The administration does not believe science and ethics need be at odds," the statement said.
The Isakson bill would also prohibit taxpayer money from being spent on the creation of embryos for research purposes, a provision some scientists strongly oppose.
___
The Reid bill is S. 5. The Isakson bill is S. 30.
WASHINGTON - President Bush will again veto a bill to subsidize stem cell research using human embryos, but would sign an alternative that permits public funding for studies on embryos incapable of developing into fetuses, the White House said Tuesday.
Both bills are moving toward a Senate vote this week with a debate over a budding science that some researchers say could cure diseases that afflict millions of people.
The bill Bush opposes, sponsored by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (news, bio, voting record), D-Nev., would lift the president's 2001 ban on federal funding for any new embryonic stem cell studies.
Bush contends the measure crosses an ethical line because human embryos are destroyed in the process of extracting the stem cells, material that can morph into any tissue in the body and theoretically replace or heal damaged organs.
"The administration believes that research on alternative sources of stem cells is extremely promising and provides robust opportunities to advance science without compelling American taxpayers to participate in ongoing destruction of human embryos," the White House said in a statement.
If the measure passes both houses and reaches Bush's desk, "he would veto the bill," the statement said.
On the other hand, an alternative sponsored by Sen. Johnny Isakson (news, bio, voting record), R-Ga., would encourage research that does not harm budding human life, the administration said. That measure would direct taxpayer money to stem cell research on fertilized embryos that have passed the window of time in which they are capable of developing into a human being.
"The administration does not believe science and ethics need be at odds," the statement said.
The Isakson bill would also prohibit taxpayer money from being spent on the creation of embryos for research purposes, a provision some scientists strongly oppose.
___
The Reid bill is S. 5. The Isakson bill is S. 30.
Monday, April 09, 2007
TEXTING
In a recent training for work, I was reminded of how humiliating diabetes can sometimes be. About an hour into “Facilitating Meetings,” I started to feel like my bloodsugar might be off. I popped out my meter – being sure that the meeting leader saw me as I tested.
253 mg/dl… Hmmm… I pull out my pump – again being sure that the pump tubing was showing. Beep, beep, beep – dialing in the correction bolus.
“Excuse me, NICOLE – you need to stop TEXTING now.”
I’m taken aback. “Um…” I utter.
The meeting leader interrupts “Now. Please stop TEXTING.”
My face is scarlet as I croak “I’m not TEXTING…” Placing the same enunciation on the last word as the leader had. “I’m –“ I only get half of the m out…
“It sure looks like you’re texting there. Care to share what you ARE doing???”
I’m not able to curb my aggravation as I say “Not particularly. But I guess I don’t have much choice, I’m GIVING INSULIN for DIABETES.”
“Oh. Well can you mute that thing? Does it have a manner mode?”
“No I can’t mute this thing.” My voice is now edging toward out and out angry sounding. And I say this last not because I’ve forgotten how to put my pump on vibrate, but because I want this guy to know he’s being a total jerk. “It’s not a phone.”
By now, I’ve finished bolusing and put my pump back in its pocket. My face is as red as the tip of the white-board marker the leader waves around in his hand. I look up at the leader as he says, almost under his breath “FINISHED?”
“Yeah, I’m finished,” I say.
And the class continues on.
At lunch break, the woman next to me says “I can’t believe he DID that. I just can’t believe it. Are you alright?”
“Sure am,” I say, “this disease can be a pain sometimes.”
“I guess it can.” She says. “He’s lucky you kept your cool, isn’t he?”
“I guess,” I say, “But he won’t be lucky when I contact HR tomorrow.”
“Atta girl!!” She says, smiling at me.
“Atta girl!!” I think as I thank her – my grin wide.
I had a nice conversation with my HR Rep the next day – explaining what had happened. She promised to have a conversation with the trainer, an outside consultant they bring in for workshops like the one I was taking. I felt better having voiced my concerns.
But, man, in those two minutes, I could’ve exploded.
Sure, calling someone out if they’re doing something rude in a meeting is something I’d expect – something I fully support. But not giving a person the chance to explain what they are doing – and then making an issue of the noise it’s causing – even when you know the noise is related to a medical condition is just ridiculous.
Anybody out there had any issues at work related to diabetes or care that needs to happen at inopportune times or people who just don’t seem to understand that what you’re doing isn’t optional?
253 mg/dl… Hmmm… I pull out my pump – again being sure that the pump tubing was showing. Beep, beep, beep – dialing in the correction bolus.
“Excuse me, NICOLE – you need to stop TEXTING now.”
I’m taken aback. “Um…” I utter.
The meeting leader interrupts “Now. Please stop TEXTING.”
My face is scarlet as I croak “I’m not TEXTING…” Placing the same enunciation on the last word as the leader had. “I’m –“ I only get half of the m out…
“It sure looks like you’re texting there. Care to share what you ARE doing???”
I’m not able to curb my aggravation as I say “Not particularly. But I guess I don’t have much choice, I’m GIVING INSULIN for DIABETES.”
“Oh. Well can you mute that thing? Does it have a manner mode?”
“No I can’t mute this thing.” My voice is now edging toward out and out angry sounding. And I say this last not because I’ve forgotten how to put my pump on vibrate, but because I want this guy to know he’s being a total jerk. “It’s not a phone.”
By now, I’ve finished bolusing and put my pump back in its pocket. My face is as red as the tip of the white-board marker the leader waves around in his hand. I look up at the leader as he says, almost under his breath “FINISHED?”
“Yeah, I’m finished,” I say.
And the class continues on.
At lunch break, the woman next to me says “I can’t believe he DID that. I just can’t believe it. Are you alright?”
“Sure am,” I say, “this disease can be a pain sometimes.”
“I guess it can.” She says. “He’s lucky you kept your cool, isn’t he?”
“I guess,” I say, “But he won’t be lucky when I contact HR tomorrow.”
“Atta girl!!” She says, smiling at me.
“Atta girl!!” I think as I thank her – my grin wide.
I had a nice conversation with my HR Rep the next day – explaining what had happened. She promised to have a conversation with the trainer, an outside consultant they bring in for workshops like the one I was taking. I felt better having voiced my concerns.
But, man, in those two minutes, I could’ve exploded.
Sure, calling someone out if they’re doing something rude in a meeting is something I’d expect – something I fully support. But not giving a person the chance to explain what they are doing – and then making an issue of the noise it’s causing – even when you know the noise is related to a medical condition is just ridiculous.
Anybody out there had any issues at work related to diabetes or care that needs to happen at inopportune times or people who just don’t seem to understand that what you’re doing isn’t optional?
Thursday, April 05, 2007
More Questions
So, I'm obnoxious. But I wanted to do this again, because George's questions to another blogger were so damned good...
1. If you could have your face on a box of breakfast cereal, which one would you choose?
Kix – because it was the first non-sugared cereal I actually liked as a kid. In my opinion, Kix was the diabetic’s dream cereal before insulin pumping and increased numbers of daily injections became the norm. Yummy – not filled with corn syrup – kid tested, Curious Girl approved…
2. Name 5 things that you will do before 2008 that you have never done before (or at least what you would like to do)?
*Stick to an exercise routine
*Try to write something I might get paid for
*Take a 2 week vacation during which I actually vacation – ie: don’t check emails, phone messages, etc.
*Touch a sleeping lion
*Keep my house spotless (this is the least likely of the 5 to actually happen)
3. If a cartoon character came to life and had to live with you forever, which one would be your pick and why?
Probably the Great Gazoo. Come on – who wouldn’t want to tap the brain of a power-tripping genius alien who’s visited both the future – and prehistoric Bedrock? Plus, he’s dippy, but he’s cute.
4. If you could choose one year of your life to live over again, which one would you choose?
I don’t think I’d live a year over again at all. Knowing the things I know now, I’d probably change things, thus royally screwing them up and altering the destinies of myself and others. OK, that’s probably a bit egocentric to think my life could have any power over any kind of destiny. I guess, if I had to choose, I’d go back to the year I met Bob – or any of the years since. My life has pretty much been excellent since I ran into that man.
5. If you could give your life to change something in the world, would you and what would you change?
I’d die to make people less resentful, less angry, less poisonous. It is my true belief that most of our worldly dilemmas come not from the things that are part of our natural existence – things like disease and death – but from some people’s inability to deal with them effectively. Too many people harbor grudges against others and anger at themselves and those around them (usually stemming from imagined failures or wrongs) – these things are like pollutants – they affect all of us. Even if we’re not in the direct line of fire of a person’s anger – the sheer karmic negativity gets inside of us and spurns more of the same.
I guess I could’ve said I’d cure something – or I’d stop war – or something else that sounds really earth shattering. But the truth is, I think some of us need to suffer – need to have diseases and in the end – ALL of us need to die. If there was something, though, to make us more able to deal with our living and dying and stay more positive – I feel like we wouldn’t have half the trouble we’ve got in our world now.
1. If you could have your face on a box of breakfast cereal, which one would you choose?
Kix – because it was the first non-sugared cereal I actually liked as a kid. In my opinion, Kix was the diabetic’s dream cereal before insulin pumping and increased numbers of daily injections became the norm. Yummy – not filled with corn syrup – kid tested, Curious Girl approved…
2. Name 5 things that you will do before 2008 that you have never done before (or at least what you would like to do)?
*Stick to an exercise routine
*Try to write something I might get paid for
*Take a 2 week vacation during which I actually vacation – ie: don’t check emails, phone messages, etc.
*Touch a sleeping lion
*Keep my house spotless (this is the least likely of the 5 to actually happen)
3. If a cartoon character came to life and had to live with you forever, which one would be your pick and why?
Probably the Great Gazoo. Come on – who wouldn’t want to tap the brain of a power-tripping genius alien who’s visited both the future – and prehistoric Bedrock? Plus, he’s dippy, but he’s cute.
4. If you could choose one year of your life to live over again, which one would you choose?
I don’t think I’d live a year over again at all. Knowing the things I know now, I’d probably change things, thus royally screwing them up and altering the destinies of myself and others. OK, that’s probably a bit egocentric to think my life could have any power over any kind of destiny. I guess, if I had to choose, I’d go back to the year I met Bob – or any of the years since. My life has pretty much been excellent since I ran into that man.
5. If you could give your life to change something in the world, would you and what would you change?
I’d die to make people less resentful, less angry, less poisonous. It is my true belief that most of our worldly dilemmas come not from the things that are part of our natural existence – things like disease and death – but from some people’s inability to deal with them effectively. Too many people harbor grudges against others and anger at themselves and those around them (usually stemming from imagined failures or wrongs) – these things are like pollutants – they affect all of us. Even if we’re not in the direct line of fire of a person’s anger – the sheer karmic negativity gets inside of us and spurns more of the same.
I guess I could’ve said I’d cure something – or I’d stop war – or something else that sounds really earth shattering. But the truth is, I think some of us need to suffer – need to have diseases and in the end – ALL of us need to die. If there was something, though, to make us more able to deal with our living and dying and stay more positive – I feel like we wouldn’t have half the trouble we’ve got in our world now.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
You want to know WHAT?
Thank you, Julia, for the interview questions.
If you would like to be interviewed, go ahead - leave a comment with your email address and I'll send you some questions...
1. What does blogging do for you?
It helps me to exercise my brain in a way that I don’t get to exercise it at work or in other areas of my life. It gives me a place to vent when I need it. It allows me to make a difference in the lives of others – and it affords me the opportunity to feel my burdens eased by the support of others. It permits me to be a bit self-indulgent and egocentric - and, I guess, a bit selfless and humble all at the same time.
2. Do you have any tattoos? If so, what of and what do they represent? If not, would you?
I have several. There is one on my back; a fairy-looking butterfly stolen from the pages of this book:
It was the first tattoo I ever got. For me it represents who I was at that exact moment in life – someone who lived in the moment, someone who appreciated beauty, someone who was looking for an awakening. In that tattoo I still feel all the uncertainty that was in my heart and my head about who I really was – and what I really wanted out of life. It reminds me that I will always be a work in progress – a changing being – and it brings me back to a point where I relished being just that.
The one on my neck is an AIDS ribbon. I had it done after one of my best high school friends died of AIDS related complications in 1999.
My largest piece is along my clavicles and on my breast plate. It was something I got after my father’s dad passed away. It’s a vine of forget me nots that hold up a claddagh. The claddagh design was drawn by the artist from a ring my grandfather had given me when I was a girl; the forget me nots remind me of his presence in my life – even after he’d left us.
This photos shows it very well:
There is one more that I don’t want to talk about.
3. Is what you do for a living what you'd do if money weren't an issue? If not, what would you rather do?
Yes. I’d either be doing what I’m doing or something very close to it. Of course, if money were no issue – I think I’d like to go back to school – maybe get a Masters Degree and try my hand at teaching philosophy or writing. Ah, but money IS an issue.
4. What is your all-time, number one, desert island favourite book/album/movie?
The book would be The Treasured Writings of Khalil Gibran.
The album would either be Bob’s band The McGunks Here Comes the Shame or Darkbuster’s 22 Songs You’ll Never Want to Hear Again – the final answer would depend on whether Bob was with me on the island or not – if he was, I’d take Darkbuster’s album instead of his.
The movie would be Caddy Shack. (Yeah, I said it.)
5. What's the most money you've ever spent on any one item? (not including a car or house)
Home computer – Digital Camera? It’s a toss up – I think I spent equally on each of these things…
If you would like to be interviewed, go ahead - leave a comment with your email address and I'll send you some questions...
1. What does blogging do for you?
It helps me to exercise my brain in a way that I don’t get to exercise it at work or in other areas of my life. It gives me a place to vent when I need it. It allows me to make a difference in the lives of others – and it affords me the opportunity to feel my burdens eased by the support of others. It permits me to be a bit self-indulgent and egocentric - and, I guess, a bit selfless and humble all at the same time.
2. Do you have any tattoos? If so, what of and what do they represent? If not, would you?
I have several. There is one on my back; a fairy-looking butterfly stolen from the pages of this book:
It was the first tattoo I ever got. For me it represents who I was at that exact moment in life – someone who lived in the moment, someone who appreciated beauty, someone who was looking for an awakening. In that tattoo I still feel all the uncertainty that was in my heart and my head about who I really was – and what I really wanted out of life. It reminds me that I will always be a work in progress – a changing being – and it brings me back to a point where I relished being just that.
The one on my neck is an AIDS ribbon. I had it done after one of my best high school friends died of AIDS related complications in 1999.
My largest piece is along my clavicles and on my breast plate. It was something I got after my father’s dad passed away. It’s a vine of forget me nots that hold up a claddagh. The claddagh design was drawn by the artist from a ring my grandfather had given me when I was a girl; the forget me nots remind me of his presence in my life – even after he’d left us.
This photos shows it very well:
There is one more that I don’t want to talk about.
3. Is what you do for a living what you'd do if money weren't an issue? If not, what would you rather do?
Yes. I’d either be doing what I’m doing or something very close to it. Of course, if money were no issue – I think I’d like to go back to school – maybe get a Masters Degree and try my hand at teaching philosophy or writing. Ah, but money IS an issue.
4. What is your all-time, number one, desert island favourite book/album/movie?
The book would be The Treasured Writings of Khalil Gibran.
The album would either be Bob’s band The McGunks Here Comes the Shame or Darkbuster’s 22 Songs You’ll Never Want to Hear Again – the final answer would depend on whether Bob was with me on the island or not – if he was, I’d take Darkbuster’s album instead of his.
The movie would be Caddy Shack. (Yeah, I said it.)
5. What's the most money you've ever spent on any one item? (not including a car or house)
Home computer – Digital Camera? It’s a toss up – I think I spent equally on each of these things…
Monday, April 02, 2007
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily?
In my dream, I stand by the edge of a giant body of water. It is murky and dark – looking still and rigid and cold against a white-gray sky. For as far as my eye can see, there is just this listless pool pressed hard and straight against the ominous sky. Although this world my slumber has dropped me into is deafeningly silent – the noise in my head pulses and beats and screams. There are voices of those I love and those I once loved – and there are the voices of people I work with and those of people who want something and people who just want me to hear them and there is music and poetry and there are worries and desires and ideas spoken in my own voice.
I try to focus on the water – on the sky – try to find something rippling, something moving, something living – something to help me silence the bleating in my brain. I figure if I can look at something and form some opinions – some thoughts about that thing alone – then I might find some solace from the noise. But there is just this stillness. When I attempt to speak, nothing comes out. The words I want to put out disappear, even as my lips move to make them heard. And then they appear again – a pathetic whisper in the cacophony that is in my head.
I walk along the water – realizing that I am strictly an observer here. There is a line - as distinct as the line that separates the pool from the sky - that keeps my toes from venturing into the pool. The ground is flat and dark brown – and covered in small colored stones. I can feel the stones beneath my feet – hard, rough globes pressing into my soles – but when I reach down to pick one up, I see they’re like paintings made to look like the real thing – as ungraspable as smoke. I suppose a stone hitting the water would disturb the utter stillness – and its wet plunk as it rippled the pool surface would certainly make noise that I’d be able to hear – instead of noise that I can only feel.
It is at this point in the dream that I come to know that I’m in a perpetual state of standing. Somehow my knees don’t work in the way they should and sitting is impossible. I also understand that if I stay in this place, my pacing along the line between earth and water is a true constant. I simply cannot stop myself from moving.
The voices in my brain are getting louder and louder, like children from a family of ten, all trying to be heard above their siblings – all succeeding only in making a clatter from which I can extract no sense. I can’t seem to focus on just one voice – because there is such urgency – such need – such panic in every single one of them. How can I not listen to them all? How can I be the judge of what fear, what anxiety, what horrible happening should take priority? And how can I satisfy any of them when all I can hear is the sum of their – and my – personal agonies – and not their – and my – individual – personal - concerns? I am starting to panic.
And I wake up.
I am thankful to be in my room. There is outside noise here. The cat purring near my face, the alarm sounding its wake up call, my love breathing soft, the birds outside of the window. The noise in my head is still there – and I know I’ve still got to figure out how to sort things out – but I am grateful for the "distraction" - the joyful, soothing noise - of my everyday life.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Hell of a week... And it's only Tuesday
Good Lord. What a week this has been.
Saturday - My trusty Cozmo pump starts alarming as I'm showering in preparation for the Jack and Jill party Bob and I were partially responsible for planning and implementing on Saturday. "No Delivery - Blockage Detected" screeches said pump. I look for a blockage - none to be found. So, I try to load new cartridge. Pushrod will not move forward - I try to prime the tubing "No Delivery - Blockage Detected" insists the pump. At this point, I am officially freaking. out. It is 4:15 - we are due to be in Lowell at 6:00 - Lowell is 1 hour and 45 minutes away. I have a rapidly climbing bloodsugar that is at this moment 270... I give an injected bolus and call Smith's Medical and my doc's office. Two hours later, A) I have been told my pump is "not fixable" and that I won't have my new one until Tuesday B) I have talked to the Endo's office, gotten a prescription for Lantus and begun my MDI holdover plan and C) We're off to Lowell. We are late. I don't care.
Sunday - I start looking over new pump options. Not that I don't care for my Cozmo anymore. It's just that I'm longing for something new and exciting and I've seen some features on the Animas I like - including its very compact size... (That's a hint - and there will be more on this when I'm feeling more up to it.)
Monday - My 96 year old neighbor calls me to tell me she is not feeling well. Really, she's not technically my neighbor anymore. When we moved from Seekonk in September - we had to leave Gertrude. It was difficult because she is 96 and she is pretty much alone. Bob and I adopted her when we lived in Seekonk - I took care of her pills every week, drove her to doctors visits, took care of her bills and mail, did her laundry, and an assortment of other small things. I get over to Seekonk once a week now and still do most of the things I used to do. But when she gets sick, it is difficult - because I'm not right there anymore.
At any rate, since she really wasn't feeling well and she doesn't usually complain, I asked the woman from the local Elder Service plan to head over there and check on her. When she arrived, she thought it best if Gert went to the local ER. So, off Gert went. I got a call around 3:30 asking if I could come get her and bring her home. I told them, of course I could, at 5:30 when I got out of work. I pulled up to the ER at 6:00 - it was a zoo - and Gert was sitting in the middle of the madness in a wheelchair. She had obviously not had a good day. She was pale, she told me she was nervous and wanted to go home, and she stunk to high heaven as she had (brace yourself) shit herself and the people in the ER told her she'd have to use a maxi pad until she got home. I got her home, gave her a sponge bath, put her in PJs, gave her some stomach relief medicine, and sat with her until she'd calmed down and gone to sleep.
On my way home, I cried because I was so upset for her, so angry for her, and really just plain tired.
I called the hospital today to put in a number of complaints. Not the least of which were that she was covered in excrement (some of it dried to her legs) when I picked her up and that her home care instructions included NOTHING. The name of the doctor who treated her wasn't even listed. They have yet to call me back. Perhaps my utter disgust showed through in my message...
Today - The biggest blow saved itself for last (at least I hope it's last.) Bob's grandad died this morning. Our hearts are broken. He was a wonderful, accomplished, clever, and spunky soul and he will be so sorely missed. Among other things, Vic was a WWII PT Boat Soldier, Unionized Sheet Metal Worker, Engineer, and Motorcyle Enthusiast - but moreover he was a proud father, grandfather, and greatgrandfather who cared a great deal for his family, his country, and his community. Truly one of the good guys.
We could really use your positive thoughts (and/or prayers) during this difficult time.
Saturday - My trusty Cozmo pump starts alarming as I'm showering in preparation for the Jack and Jill party Bob and I were partially responsible for planning and implementing on Saturday. "No Delivery - Blockage Detected" screeches said pump. I look for a blockage - none to be found. So, I try to load new cartridge. Pushrod will not move forward - I try to prime the tubing "No Delivery - Blockage Detected" insists the pump. At this point, I am officially freaking. out. It is 4:15 - we are due to be in Lowell at 6:00 - Lowell is 1 hour and 45 minutes away. I have a rapidly climbing bloodsugar that is at this moment 270... I give an injected bolus and call Smith's Medical and my doc's office. Two hours later, A) I have been told my pump is "not fixable" and that I won't have my new one until Tuesday B) I have talked to the Endo's office, gotten a prescription for Lantus and begun my MDI holdover plan and C) We're off to Lowell. We are late. I don't care.
Sunday - I start looking over new pump options. Not that I don't care for my Cozmo anymore. It's just that I'm longing for something new and exciting and I've seen some features on the Animas I like - including its very compact size... (That's a hint - and there will be more on this when I'm feeling more up to it.)
Monday - My 96 year old neighbor calls me to tell me she is not feeling well. Really, she's not technically my neighbor anymore. When we moved from Seekonk in September - we had to leave Gertrude. It was difficult because she is 96 and she is pretty much alone. Bob and I adopted her when we lived in Seekonk - I took care of her pills every week, drove her to doctors visits, took care of her bills and mail, did her laundry, and an assortment of other small things. I get over to Seekonk once a week now and still do most of the things I used to do. But when she gets sick, it is difficult - because I'm not right there anymore.
At any rate, since she really wasn't feeling well and she doesn't usually complain, I asked the woman from the local Elder Service plan to head over there and check on her. When she arrived, she thought it best if Gert went to the local ER. So, off Gert went. I got a call around 3:30 asking if I could come get her and bring her home. I told them, of course I could, at 5:30 when I got out of work. I pulled up to the ER at 6:00 - it was a zoo - and Gert was sitting in the middle of the madness in a wheelchair. She had obviously not had a good day. She was pale, she told me she was nervous and wanted to go home, and she stunk to high heaven as she had (brace yourself) shit herself and the people in the ER told her she'd have to use a maxi pad until she got home. I got her home, gave her a sponge bath, put her in PJs, gave her some stomach relief medicine, and sat with her until she'd calmed down and gone to sleep.
On my way home, I cried because I was so upset for her, so angry for her, and really just plain tired.
I called the hospital today to put in a number of complaints. Not the least of which were that she was covered in excrement (some of it dried to her legs) when I picked her up and that her home care instructions included NOTHING. The name of the doctor who treated her wasn't even listed. They have yet to call me back. Perhaps my utter disgust showed through in my message...
Today - The biggest blow saved itself for last (at least I hope it's last.) Bob's grandad died this morning. Our hearts are broken. He was a wonderful, accomplished, clever, and spunky soul and he will be so sorely missed. Among other things, Vic was a WWII PT Boat Soldier, Unionized Sheet Metal Worker, Engineer, and Motorcyle Enthusiast - but moreover he was a proud father, grandfather, and greatgrandfather who cared a great deal for his family, his country, and his community. Truly one of the good guys.
We could really use your positive thoughts (and/or prayers) during this difficult time.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Eighteen Musical Meme
This one comes from Julia!
Here's what you're supposed to do: Go over to popculturemadness.com, click on the decade you turned 18, find the actual year you turned 18, and copy the top songs for that year...pasting them. Then you Bold the ones you liked; strikeout the ones you hated; and italicize the ones about which you were neutral. The ones you've never heard will stay unformatted. I assume this means at the time...not that my tastes have evolved much in the intervening
Here's what I did, since I'm blogger challenged. The ones I liked are bolded, the ones I hated are in italics, the ones I was neutral about are not formatted, and the ones I didn't know at all have question marks next to them.
It would appear I hated most of the music out there the year I turned eighteen.
Because I Love You (The Postman Song) - Stevie B
Justify My Love - Madonna
Love Will Never Do (Without You) - Janet Jackson
The First Time - Surface - ??
Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now) - C&C Music Factory featuring Freedom Williams I can't believe I'm admitting that.
All the Man That I Need - Whitney Houston
Someday - Mariah Carey
One More Try - Timmy T.
Coming out of the Dark - Gloria Estefan
I've Been Thinking About You - Londonbeat
You're in Love - Wilson Phillips
Baby Baby - Amy Grant
Joyride - Roxette
(The Kissing Game) - Hi-Five
I Don't Wanna Cry - Mariah Carey
More Than Words - Extreme
Rush, Rush - Paula Abdul
Unbelievable - EMF
(Everything I Do) I Do It for You - Bryan Adams
The Promise of a New Day - Paula Abdul
I Adore Mi Amor - Color Me Badd
Good Vibrations - Marky Mark & the Funky Bunch featuring Loleatta Holloway
Emotions - Mariah Carey
Romantic - Karyn White - ??
Cream - Prince & the New Power Generation
When a Man Loves a Woman - Michael Bolton
Set Adrift on Memory Bliss - PM Dawn - ??
Black Or White - Michael Jackson
Here's what you're supposed to do: Go over to popculturemadness.com, click on the decade you turned 18, find the actual year you turned 18, and copy the top songs for that year...pasting them. Then you Bold the ones you liked; strikeout the ones you hated; and italicize the ones about which you were neutral. The ones you've never heard will stay unformatted. I assume this means at the time...not that my tastes have evolved much in the intervening
Here's what I did, since I'm blogger challenged. The ones I liked are bolded, the ones I hated are in italics, the ones I was neutral about are not formatted, and the ones I didn't know at all have question marks next to them.
It would appear I hated most of the music out there the year I turned eighteen.
Because I Love You (The Postman Song) - Stevie B
Justify My Love - Madonna
Love Will Never Do (Without You) - Janet Jackson
The First Time - Surface - ??
Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now) - C&C Music Factory featuring Freedom Williams I can't believe I'm admitting that.
All the Man That I Need - Whitney Houston
Someday - Mariah Carey
One More Try - Timmy T.
Coming out of the Dark - Gloria Estefan
I've Been Thinking About You - Londonbeat
You're in Love - Wilson Phillips
Baby Baby - Amy Grant
Joyride - Roxette
(The Kissing Game) - Hi-Five
I Don't Wanna Cry - Mariah Carey
More Than Words - Extreme
Rush, Rush - Paula Abdul
Unbelievable - EMF
(Everything I Do) I Do It for You - Bryan Adams
The Promise of a New Day - Paula Abdul
I Adore Mi Amor - Color Me Badd
Good Vibrations - Marky Mark & the Funky Bunch featuring Loleatta Holloway
Emotions - Mariah Carey
Romantic - Karyn White - ??
Cream - Prince & the New Power Generation
When a Man Loves a Woman - Michael Bolton
Set Adrift on Memory Bliss - PM Dawn - ??
Black Or White - Michael Jackson
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