Repercussions

Remember that scary low I told you about?

Well, it's still messing with my head.  I go through my days fearing numbers which are admittedly perfect (between 100-110).  Because lower than that, and I'm in double digits.  90s.  Scary.  80s.  Even Scarier.  70s.  Give me that juice!  60s.  Give me juice, get me a chair and don't talk to me!  I don't think I've been lower than that, and that's good because where else can I go from there.  So I admittedly have been running a little high this week, but mostly in the 140s range, which is not horrible.  Over-treating lows?  Absolutely.   And that's just during the day.  When I get home at night, I make dinner and eat dinner and I hang out, whether talking to friends or not, and trying to get up the courage to record my You Can Do This video.  Instead I watch others, (and this one over and over) and try to ignore the head games that diabetes is playing with me.  And then I try to go to bed.  And I sit on my couch scared to walk into my bedroom.  My bedroom is cozy, cool and comforting and diabetes has made it scary.  I don't want to go to sleep at night.  I read and play Angry Birds so that I literally can't keep my eyes open anymore.  Only then am I able to go to sleep.  Living alone and being alone?  It's scary right now.  That's what 23 does to a person!  

I want diabetes to leave me alone.  I know that in time I will be comfortable again, and I'll go to sleep at decent times and I won't lack patience anymore, and I won't need to survive on a caffeine drip because of the lack of sleep because of the fear.  I know that day will come.  But here, this week?  Not a chance.

Never Thought I'd Say That

This past weekend I went home for my cousin's high school graduation party.  It was your typical graduation cookout, besides the fact that it was rainy and raw outside.  There were family and friends and grandparents and small children.  And as I stood around the counter in the kitchen with my aunts, mother, and a few other women, one of them said "The last time I saw you you were three or four years old." (No wonder why I had no idea who she was.)  "It was at your uncle's house on the river and you were throwing up everywhere."  My response: "The last time you saw me was THE day?"

Diabetes has always been a big part of my life, but I'm much more comfortable talking about since I started this blog.  And to meet someone who last saw me on my D-day.  Well that's pretty damn cool.

Unicorns! Glitter! And a little bit of Ohh..

Wednesday was one of those days when diabetes was all about unicorns and glitter, and I've been smiling ever since.  Except then I remember the news that my awesome nurse is leaving.

I haven't been with her very long, but I was looking forward to many more years.  I realize that through my blog it may not seem as though I'm shy, but I am.  I trip over my words and I get uncomfortable talking to new people.  And I've never felt this way with her.  And I've never had to say "I think there's something wrong with me."  (with any medical professional) (And I almost didn't)  But I didn't feel uncomfortable at any time during this appointment.  I walk in there and I feel comfortable.  And when things are going really wrong, she has been there to support me.  She helped me figure out that my body is much more sensitive to insulin when my blood sugar is extra high, so when I figure out a bolus over 350 mg/dL, I reduce it by 10% before bolusing.  And it works!  I know that there is a lot of talk out there in the DOC that we are awesome and medical teams don't always know what they're talking about, but I never would've figured this out without her.  Before I made my final decision about switching my pump, I called her to hear what she had to say.  I knew I didn't need her approval, but I wanted to know what she thought.  I value her opinion.

I am sad to see her go.  I am sure that wherever she is off to next will be fabulous and wonderful and I hope that wherever that may be, they will appreciate her.  In the excitement that was finding out my A1C, she told me that my hard work made her day.  I know that she "lives" in diabetes world, and diabetes world is awesome.  But from what I can tell, she doesn't have diabetes and is still awesome and still gets it.  (for you non-D, non-medical people, you'd think that this happens all the time, but it doesn't!).  When I told twitter, I got more responses than I even could've imagined.  And it made me feel so good.  And when I told facebook, all my D friends liked it (or parents of D friends), but no one else did.

And once again, my words are coming out of my brain and they aren't making any sense.  That's what happens when people mean more than words can say.
Forgive my lack of words.  But I'm changing the wording:

"An awesome diabetes medical professional is worth a thousand million words."

We're Everywhere

Friday night I headed out to see the girls compete in the regional synchronized swimming meet.  Competition started around 4, and I didn't show up until about 7.  During one of the routines, Mom pointed out a little girl who has diabetes.  I've heard about her before, and this mother has wanted to talk to me for a few years.  I asked my mother where her mother was, but she was a judge, so she was poolside.

A while later after all the team routines were done, the little girl was near us and her mother was standing behind me.  She went to ask her mom for a sip of water and as she walked past me, her eyes never left my pump.  And then I hear "mom, mom! she has an insulin pump."  And so I walk over, "hi, I'm Briley.  I'm on the Catalinas."  The mother tells me how her daughter has the Omnipod, and asks if I saw her swim.  I had, and I start to explain how I've been wanting to meet them for a long time, and then my mother walks and the CWD mother says, "Oh! you're Cynthia's daughter!"  We talked for a few more minutes until the mother had to go back down to the pool.

Bracelets

I need to get a new medical bracelet.  Mine fell off at Sunday River in 2009, and I just haven't gotten around to it. (Don't yell at me, my mother has that covered.)

This is the thing.  I don't trust frilly ID bracelets.  I get suspicious that if it were ever needed to save my life, that someone would look right past it.  I know that beads on an ID bracelet are commonplace now, but not for me.  For fifteen years I had that bracelet in the picture.  (Charm)  The new one arrived in my mailbox on Halloween while I was in college; the same day I had my first appointment with an adult endo.  As a kid, I hated watches and bracelets, because I had that one.  I like watches now (although, with a pump, who needs one?), but I'm still picky about bracelets.  People have always given them to me, so I have a great collection, and I'll use them to make a specific outfit, but that's about it.

I have tried to go over to the "get a pretty medical ID" party, but I just can't.  Both of my previous ones came directly from Medic Alert, and I've looked here (but not in a while).  I don't want to limit my options by saying I will only buy from them though.  My mother sent me a link this morning, and I found one that I love.  But I'm worried about it.  Will this style stay on my wrist?  Would I be worried about it?  I want a bracelet that is there and I don't have to worry about.  I have a few beautiful bracelets at my parents' house.  Could those get charms and that's it?  One of them looks like the cuff, but is a regular bracelet.  I know that those wouldn't come off of my wrist.

If anyone has any suggestions, they would be greatly appreciated!

Mistaken Number

I went home this weekend for my cousin's nurse pinning from St. Anselm's college.  In a pew meant for seven, maybe eight people, we had ten.  Although my uncle will tell you we had 9.5 people on that bench. In my teensy tiny purse, I debated on just stuffing some tabs in there, but managed to get my meter in there too.  And whether it was being hungry, or stuffy in there, I started to feel low.  I got out all my stuff as un-noticeable as possible.  I was sitting between my mother and my aunt and as my meter was counting down from 5, I heard a gasp.  "I thought it said you were 2." I looked at my mother and we both imitated what me passing out would've looked like.  And my aunt said, "even I knew it was counting down."  And then I said, "well, at least there are lots of people here who could help me."

cousins: Megan, me, Michael & Kate

A Call for Help

(Beyond the images of the Royal Wedding) The images of the disaster in the south stop me short.  And then it feels as though there is nothing you can do.  But that's not true.  If you can help, please do so.  In a time like this, anything you can send will help.  

Guest Post: Chocolate Cheeks

I have another guest post from my mother today.  I wrote about my first Easter, but I got it wrong, so here's the real version.  Keep in mind, this was in 1990, when we counted calories, not carbs and there was no humalog and each meal had a set amount of food to be eaten.  

Found

The hard cold facts of diabetes and balancing diet, eating schedule and insulin, first became apparent for you the week after Easter when you were 4 years old.  Of course at that age, Daddy and I managed what you ate and when.  We tried to give you a variety of choices and foods so that you weren't constantly aware of the structure diabetes had placed on your life.

As with every holiday, we felt it was important for you to receive the same "treats" as other children.  Easter, Halloween, etc.  We had our own way of dealing with what we did with the treats, or when you ate them.  Sugar free chocolates from Van Otis are great *editor's note: I don't think so anymore*, but they still contain calories.

This particular night you had requested spaghetti for dinner.  Like most children, you liked pasta.  Yours with sauce on the side of course!  It was probably right before I was to begin cooking dinner, and I was upstairs, you downstairs.  You were very quiet, but for you that was normal, always busy with your coloring, books, etc.  When I came downstairs I saw you make a beeline around the house in the opposite direction of the kitchen.  Hmmmm, there were little pieces of colored foil on the floor.  When I met you in the living room, your cheeks were full of chocolate Easter eggs.  Now you had only had diabetes for a year or so, so this floored me.  I had no idea of figuring out how many you had eaten, what to do about the calories, dinner, and of course you had no idea.  The main thing is that Daddy and I had made the choice that food was never to be a battle with you.  So I determined that you should have no pasta for dinner, we would give you Regular insulin based on your normal dosage, hoped that you had candy that matched the carbs you were scheduled to have, and monitor you till bedtime testing and insulin.  You were SOOO disappointed about having no pasta.  I explained the hows and why of your choice of eating the candy.  Oh you had such a sad face.  I don't remember how the rest of the night went with glucose readings.  But it was the first time all of us had to deal with you acting like a normal 4-year-old after Easter, and us having to deal with the adjustments and corrections of diabetes.  I guess I felt that you needed to know that your choice to eat the candy was okay, but that affected your choice for dinner as well.

That was a day that again reminded me how different your life would be with all the birthdays and holidays.  I hope that because of the flexibility we did "allow"you on those occasions, that you knew that on occasion, you could eat the cake, ice cream, and some candy.  We just had to plan more than others did.

As always, when one door closes, another opens.

Paying Attention

The other day on twitter, Kim asked if anyone noticed a change in BGs when they have a sunburn.  I wanted to answer, but this is the thing, I couldn't.  Not because I haven't been sunburned, I know that I have.  But it's because throughout college and a few years beyond, I didn't pay attention to my diabetes.  So the answer that popped into my head was "I wish I knew."  And then, "In the theme of honesty, I'm going to have to write about this."

Found

This is the thing.  I know diabetes.  And I sound like I know it, so when I went to the endo all throughout college, I was able to talk my way into paying attention to diabetes.  And it worked.  At the time, fortunately, but ultimately, unfortunately.  But even if it hadn't worked, would I have changed?  Probably not, because I wasn't ready.  Sure, I paid attention, and I always had insulin with me and tabs, but I wouldn't always test.  And then, paying attention to things like "do blood sugars have a different pattern when you're sunburnt?"  The thought of paying attention to a different pattern when I couldn't even pay attention to my regular patterns is a little intimidating, and right now, embarrassing.

But now.  Now I'm ready for this.  I've been paying attention and changing basals and asking questions not only of my medical team, but also of PWDs and Caregivers.  And I have a list of things to pay attention to.  (Being sunburnt is at the top).  I've been researching, investigating, and feeling better than I've felt in years.

Does anyone else have any other things that may cause a change in the amount of insulin they need?  (Besides exercise & illness)  Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated :)

It Started as Just a Cute Story

Yesterday was a crazy day.  

After dropping Girl Genius off at school, I was over 370.  An hour later after finishing #sweatbetes at the gym, I was 70.  Then 50s.  Then 30s.  Then 50s.  Then 80s.  Then 200s.

This is Coffee

I wasn't a happy camper.  Except that I was because it was sunny and warm and I get to go skiing at my favorite of all weekends up at Sunday River this weekend.  I would try to talk with Girl Genius and the words coming out of my mouth made no sense whatsoever.  We needed to go to the dry cleaners, and Starbucks is right across the street.  I wanted something, but I'm limiting myself to one cup of coffee per day during Lent, and I knew what I was going to order walking in.  And what did I order?  My usual coffee.  And as we're driving back, Girl Genius is talking about how Coffee makes his own coffee if we're not at the house.  When we're at the dry cleaners, or school, or the grocery store, or this, or that, I just zoned.  It can be mentally challenging to follow the logic of a really smart 4 year old!  And then I hear 

"juice. Because he has diabetes too.  And sometimes he goes low.  And he wears an insulin pump like you.  But when he doesn't have his insulin pump on, he takes shots until we can get to the store to get him another one."

Seriously child?!  I mean, you know I take juice if I'm low.  And you know that when we eat snack or lunch I push buttons on the pump.  But you put all that together for the dog?!  And I know that imaginative play is a way for children to help themselves understand something really complicated.  So not only is she asking questions, noticing my diabetes, paying attention when I talk to her, but she is actively trying to understand it.  

And then I'm thinking about it.  And I relate diabetes to a foreign language.  I took Spanish & French in junior high, German in high school and American Sign Language in college.  And I know very little of any of these.  Why?  Because I don't use them on a regular basis.  Diabetes for nonPWDs must be the same thing.  You hear us get angry, frustrated, and flabbergasted trying to explain diabetes.  But I don't remember or understand things I don't use a lot.  So why would people who don't experience it a lot understand it?  When it comes to explaining diabetes, I am really patient with Girl Genius, because, ya know, she's four.  But maybe that's just how it needs to be done.  Answer people's questions as they have them, not when we want them to know.  Let's all find a new friend who doesn't know much about diabetes and through the course of getting to know them better, they'll know diabetes better, and they'll be able to correct that third person, and so on.  Baby steps.  I'm taking baby steps.  Who's with me?

Successful SWAGing

Found

As part of Uncle Pepere's birthday celebration, I took the day off of work last Friday.  Last year I used 4.5 out of my 5 sick days, but I never took a day.  Needless to say, on Thursday, I was a happy girl.  So happy in fact, that I forgot to either make myself a sandwich or stop at Panera for one.  So as I got on my way, I realized I'd be stopping at McDonald's for my dinner.  I am not a fan of McDonald's, in fact, I gave it up in high school and only started eating it again last year because of the convenience.  Anyways, I pulled up to the drive through and saw the sign that the Shamrock Shakes are back.  I like these, and I've only ever had one.  And I don't plan on being back at McDonald's any time soon.  But now, how on Earth do I bolus for this?!  Especially if you're feeling low, and have a 3.5 hour drive in front of you?  I bolused for 90 grams of carbs, with the correction for 30 happening right away, and the other 60 over the course of the next half hour.  I finished the shake about 40 minutes later, so I thought at least my timing was right.  When I bolused, I had a BG of 126 mg/dL.  When I got to the next rest stop in Maine about an hour and a half later, I was 101 mg/dL.  I was freaking ecstatic!  I am never a successful SWAGer, and mostly because I haven't paid enough attention over the last eight years to know whether I'm successful or not.  But I didn't want to jinx it, so I didn't say a thing online.  Getting off the highway I was 129 mg/dL and when I reached my family at Sunday River I was at 151 mg/dL.  I had successfully SWAGed!!

*For those of you who don't know what a SWAG is: Scientific Wild Ass Guess

Other People Can Say What I'm Feeling Better

My grandfather is diabetes? 

I'm not feeling diabetes today, and I was trying to come up with the right words, and the way to tell my stories that put them in a positive light, and to show how excited I was about them.  But nothing sounds right.  Head on over and you'll see how I feel too.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Guest Post: D-Day

Today's post is from my mother.  I'm not sure how to introduce the woman who has been there for me, for, forever.  She is the one that called the doctor day after day; that figured out my calories; that figured out where the best diabetes place in the school was for me; that made diabetes not be a big deal.  She did it all, without a constant support group like the DOC.  Here is her story of my D-Day.  

Well, since you’ve had diabetes over 20 years, I could write a book.  But for this entry I will start at the beginning.  It was Fourth of July week-end and you were very lethargic and cranky.  Initially daddy and I thought we needed to be stricter with you, as you were an only child, we thought all the whining was because you were, well, a spoiled three year old.  I brought you to the doctor’s office and was told to bring you immediately to the hospital. There you stayed for 5 days.  The long stay was so that Dad and I could learn how to take care of you.  As there is no history of diabetes in either of our families this was all new to us.  Once you received some insulin, you bounced back to your usual fun loving self.  By the next day when Grammy and Grampa Dea came to visit, you were riding a tricycle around the corridors of Elliot Hospital, smiling and waving.  That insulin was like a happy pill for you. 

Every night either Daddy or I stayed in the room with you.  Of course when it was me, your hair was pulled back in braids and you wore a cute little outfit.  When daddy stayed, there you sat for breakfast with his baseball hat on, hair sticking out all over the place.  Your outfit would be such a surprise.  I guess he thought it better to pick a shirt, shorts, socks etc from different piles, not the ones that matched.  I think you two conspired against me just to see my reaction.

I remember several key things from that hospital stay.  Daddy and I reacted the same way to your diagnosis.  We both wanted to learn everything we needed to know to take care of you.  The insulin ratios, how to use a needle, mix regular and NPH insulins, how to rotate your sites, the diet of starches, vegetables, dairy, meat, vegetables, etc.  No carbohydrate counting back then.  14 goldfish equaled 1 starch.  A meat serving is the size of my palm.  But most importantly your pediatrician told us to not feel sorry for you.  He told us not to dwell on how or why you had diabetes, but to move forward.  He told us you would be able to do anything with your life as long as you respected diabetes and took care of yourself.  In our hearts, daddy and I wish you did not have diabetes, but if not you, then who?   No one of course, so therefore, we have lived with diabetes too.  We look at your diagnosis as we were driving on one road, and had to take a right. 

While you were in the hospital, Uncle Brian and Uncle Dan, came over to help daddy clean the house and mow the lawn.  While they worked around the house, daddy took stock of our kitchen cabinets and went to the grocery store.  What was I thinking?!!!!   O how he loves those little cans of peas!  Our entire extended family stepped up and helped us in so many ways.  Your grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends.  They all visited and sent you so many balloons that you were handing them out to other children in the hospital.

Diabetes is just one part of who you are.  Everybody has something, and diabetes is yours.  Mine is that I have a child with diabetes.  And everyday I am thankful for that little girl with blue eyes and thick brown hair who also has to test her blood and take insulin every day.  It has been my pleasure to care for you since that day so long ago.

DSMA February Blog Carnival, Part Two

The most awesome thing I've done in spite of diabetes is ...
In January 2009, I was on the phone with Rebel when she told me that she was going to try to qualify for the Global Heroes race.  "You should do it too."  And I agreed.  The deadline for the application was April 1.  I didn't have much time to start training (it started the next day).  I looked up a training log online and started my work (I would link it for you, but I don't remember which one it was.)  I liked this training log because it wasn't about how fast you were going, just that you were doing it.  It was a 7 day per week program, but included a day of rest, and a day of stretching.  It also included days of other exercise, based on how long you did it.  To complete these days, I would head down to cross-country ski or to the hotel between where I was living and school and do laps at the pool.  I was dedicated.  And even though I'm not a runner, I did it.  The log scheduled ten weeks, and I had 9.5 between the day I decided to do it and my race, which was 10.5 miles.  On one of those weeks, I got sick.  It wasn't the flu, but it knocked me out, that's for sure.  I can remember driving to school early, running a 5 mile loop, and then sitting in class for an hour (extra fidgety since I hadn't showered yet - I had changed though).  Still though, there was a lot of anxiety.  But c'mon, who doesn't want the chance to win a $1000 to give to a diabetes group in your name?  I was determined to do this.  I went to my parents house a few weeks before the race and ran an 8 mile loop.  My mother drove by at one point, and I only walked when I was sucking down a juice box (or tabs or something, I don't remember the specifics).  But I finally felt empowered that I could run this race.  My father was nervous and didn't think I could do it; not because I couldn't, but because we don't train the same way.  And if he was the one that was training, he couldn't have done it the way I did.  I didn't care how long it took, all I needed to do was finish, and then tell the Global Heroes how medical technology helped me, and why I'm an awesome person.  (Not in so many words, but basically).  My dad, his friend & I drove down to Connecticut and I ran.  And ran and ran and ran.  And if you're thinking that 8th mile must've been hard.  You're wrong.  The third mile was the hardest.  And this race had so many hills it wasn't even funny.  I knew that this was something that I wouldn't be doing very often in my life, so I gave my father my camera to document and prove that I did it.

Finish Line

So that backpack.  The camelbak portion was filled with half gatorade and half water.  I was on a 30% basal (if not lower) for 3-4 hours.  I also had my meter, a bottle of tabs, juice boxes, peanut butter crackers, and maybe plain water?  All I know is that beyond anything I didn't want to stop and open it.  There were two women in front of me, and they nicknamed me pinky.  And they told my father: "Pinky never stops running, how does she do it?"  And I didn't need to stop and open my backpack.  The best thing about this day is that I don't remember what my diabetes did that day.

I didn't do this in spite of diabetes.  I did this because of diabetes and for diabetes.  In the process I lost 30 pounds (they're all back), I gained confidence & I realized that even though it seemed crazy, I did it! I didn't win the chance to run in Twin Cities, and I believe it's because I don't have a great ability to write about how awesome I am.  I've never been one to think "I deserve ____ because ____."   But I did this for the chance to help others, and I'm hoping to run a race like this again.

This post is my February entry in the DSMA Blog Carnival.  If you’d like to participate too, you can get all of the information at http://diabetessocmed.com/2011/introducing-the-dsma-blog-carnival/

DSMA February Blog Carnival, Part One

National Zoo in D.C. 6 years old

The most awesome thing I've done in spite of diabetes is ...
go to preschool
learn to play tennis
go skiing
go to Kindergarten
ballet, jazz, tap (x 10 years)
go to elementary school
be a Brownie
start T-ball
play softball (x 10 years)
go camping
start playing the piano
go to Diabetes camp
go to middle school
start playing the clarinet
have a solo in the Christmas concert
start running cross-country
field trip to Disney without Mom as a chaperone (x2)
take swing-dancing lessons
Washington D.C. field trip
start high school
run cross-country (x4 years)
ski team (x4 years)
tennis team (x4 years)
family ski trip to Colorado
winter track (x1 year)
Tour de Cure
get the pump (03.16.02)
get my driver's license
C.I.T. at Camp Carefree
Chris Evert Tennis Academy
NH Scholastic Athlete Award
graduate high school
start college at Salve Regina University
take classes at UNH-Manchester
re-start college at Plymouth State University
tennis team (x4 years)
work at St. Paul's Children's Learning Center
counselor at Camp Carefree
work with kindergarteners doing Summer Learning
work as a summer nanny
work 3 jobs one summer
Spring Break in Puerto Rico
work at Waterville Valley Ski Area Childcare
work taking care of ski instructors' children
work in Oregon for two summers
run 10.5 mile race
Child Life Intern
graduate college
apply for a crazy amount of jobs
volunteer coach synchronized swimming
start synchronized swimming
working as a full-time nanny
move to Boston in a big girl apartment!
travel to Utah for work (and ski, and see one of my best childhood friends)
celebrate 21 years at Pops! Goes the Fourth (I've been planning this since my 16th D-Day)
take a vacation to Oregon
...to be continued...

(How can I pick just one thing when I've had diabetes for 21.5 years, and been alive for 25 years?)

"You got yourself this far-you just got to keep going." Dan Ward

This post is my February entry in the DSMA Blog Carnival.  If you’d like to participate too, you can get all of the information at http://diabetessocmed.com/2011/introducing-the-dsma-blog-carnival/

I Love to Read

And in loving to read, I've always loved book quotes.  I used to collect them and hang them on my dorm room like crazy.  Now that I'm an "adult," I like to find more practical applications for the quotes I like.  In my old blog, I would write about them, or just write them in my entries.  But I decided it would be good to now find quotes that can be applied to my diabetes life.  Worth Dying For is the first book I finished on my NOOKcolor  and it's great because once I'm done I can easily find my bookmarked/highlighted quotes.  I also want to say that this book has absolutely nothing to do with diabetes, besides my "if I tried to do that, I'd totally go low" thoughts.

"Thoughts don't necessarily happen one at a time.  They come in starbursts and waterfalls and explosions and they race away on parallel tracks, jostling, competing, fighting for supremacy."

Sometimes I think that how I take care of my diabetes follows the same patterns.  I'm testing.  And I'm bolusing.  And I'm changing my pump site.  But I'm surviving.  And that's all.  And then I have the time to think, and I realize that there's a specific time of day where I'm having the same problem.  And then one day it's fixed.  But two things changed that day, so I need to try to separate the two and see which actually caused the improvement.  And sometimes that's hard.  Wait, that is hard.  We aren't living with a straight-line disease.  But we do live with straight-line medicine.  So the ideas on how to make it work best come and go, and work and don't work.  

After reading this quote, I've started texting or emailing myself my diabetes ideas. It has helped.  I don't know if it has helped for the long-run, but so far it seems to have been helping.  

Crazy Eyes

I waited here for the Rx on my glasses to be checked

Last Friday I went into Boston for my dilated eye exam.  I haven't been in two years, but I wasn't nervous about the actual results, just the process.  The woman who tested my eyes and gave me my drops was very nice, and she had a funny accent, making my name sound really cool, but she had approximately 5 runs in her tights, and this was at 8:30 in the morning!  And then she couldn't walk in her heels.  So yes, at first glance she looked very professional, but I was a little skeptical as to how good she actually was.  And beyond that, I had no problems.  We did the "what's the smallest line you can read?" We talked about why I haven't been to the eye doctor in two years (I was scheduled to go, but then a new full time job got in the way), and then she needed pictures or something with this thing:

My biggest problem was when that clear thing needed to be nearly in my eye

The woman had to hold my head against the bar because as that clear thing came closer to my eyes, I backed my head away.  When I rub my eyes, or put my contacts in, the item coming towards my eye is soft and I have control over it.  She was sending this hard, plastic thing flying (or so it seemed) to my eyes.  She was getting frustrated with me, because she had to do it at least three times for each eye.  I feel as though this should be a common reaction, but based on her reaction, it seems it is not.  Am I the only one who cannot handle this?  She put the dilation drops in and then I was on my way to wait in the next office.

This was the size of the print on my nookcolor  during dilation and in Starbucks

I was nervous to meet my new doctor, but as soon as she walked in the door, I was comfortable.  She checked to see how dilated my eyes were, and then asked why I am so specific as to when I can have a doctor's appointment.  I told her how I'm a nanny, so she started talking to me about how when her kids were younger, they had nannies too. "Is it really true that the kids are really well behaved until we walk in the door?"  Yes!  And then, "holy crap, your eyes are perfect.  Have you really had diabetes for 22 years?"  (I don't think of myself as having diabetes for 22 years yet, but if you go solely by the year of the diagnosis date, it seems like 22 years.)  Yes, my glasses are based purely on heredity because my father and his side of the family all have glasses, and now a bunch of us in my generation have them too.  And while I was expecting the "your eyes are perfect," result, I wasn't expecting to feel so good about it.  I think I've reached the point where I appreciate all the good things, especially diabetes things, because I don't know when they will change.  

The size of my eyes when I got in my car, and I was already seeing so much better!

A Family Affair (or two)

As I was skiing with a lot of my cousins on Christmas Eve, Karolyn kept talking about the Italian feast her parents were making at home.  I knew that our only plans for the night were going to mass, but nothing else, so I kept joking that I was going to crash dinner. Well, after mass, we headed over and there was so much food.  Clam something-or-other as an appetizer, then homemade pasta for lasagna, and fettucine alfredo, meatballs & sausage, chicken parm and veal parm.  Yes, looking at this meal made me high (^400 to be exact).  As we're sitting around the counter, we were talking about how many year it had been since "something" passed (I don't remember what the something was), and of course the "I've had diabetes for 21 years so that means it's...." From there we figured out how long it had been since "something" had happened.  And then, my uncle turned around, looked at me and said, "Ya know, that day sucked."  We were at their house on that day, and then, of course, everything changed.  "You were so little, and so sick"  And then my mom looks at my aunt and says "And that's when Kate got chicken pox because you couldn't bring her to visit."  It's funny the things you remember based on the biggest day of your life; things that otherwise wouldn't be remembered.  Our conversation continued, not related to diabetes, but the impact of this dinner with family was altered, from just a few simple statements.


We have a lot of family & family friends with young children and/or expecting within the next year.  The topic of "sleeping in" on Christmas gets discussed and how no child ever sleeps in on December 25.  And that is when my mom and I pipe in with, "Well..."  I am the oldest grandchild on my father's side, and we have room in our house to host.  So my father's lone sister spent the night because really, who wants to miss a 3 year old on Christmas morning?  All four of my grandparents were also in attendance and the story goes that they were all awake and sitting in the living room, in front of the fireplace and the stockings and the evidence of Santa delivering his goodies, just waiting for precious little me to wake up.  I looked at my mother and said, "Was I three or four?"  And we both answered: I had to have been three because I wasn't allowed to sleep in post-diabetes-diagnosis.  One simple day, and all of a sudden a story has a specific date.

Diabetes gave me Santa

Santa from the Enchanted Village

Tonight, a very special man will visit lots of homes around the world.  My parents totally embraced Santa and all he stands for.  Mostly that the season is about giving, AND that he'll give you things you REALLY want even if your parents have said "No way Jose!"  And of course, there's the year I got an orange, when I should've gotten coal (the next year I got coal).  And oh yea, every Christmas I got REAL candy in my stocking.  This was my favorite.  And I got it one day a year, after Santa left it for me.  Even if I had the  opportunity to have it the rest of the year, I never did.  I got old enough where all my peers stopped believing; and then my friends joined them.  I can remember being outside for recess and all the kids talking about how NO ONE believed in Santa anymore and it was crazy if they did.  I just ran around with them and didn't say a word.  On the way to the Pops in sixth grade, I was in the car with my grandparents, mom and best friend, and I said something about Santa coming and my friend looked at me and said, "You know there's no such thing as Santa, right?"  Rather than believe her and be heart-broken, I said, "I only get the strawberry candy once a year and it's from Santa.  Of course there's such a thing as Santa!" And she said okay.  That was it, we kept going on and my friends knew, but no one ever said a word.  They knew why, and they knew me, so they just kept going on with their lives as if believing in Santa at 12 years old is completely normal.
Sometime that next year, my parents told me that there really isn't a Santa *gasp!* and that Christmas as a thirteen year old was the hardest Christmas I had ever experienced.  But now that I'm a nanny, the magic of Christmas is back, and this time it has nothing to do with diabetes :)