The Whiteboard Solution.

Last week's DSMA chat was on looking at blood sugar trends. Or rather, DO you look at blood sugar trends? Or rather, what do you do to see blood sugar trends...

I'm confusing myself already.

Point is, I've been having a tough time for awhile spotting current trends in the boys' blood sugars. Back in the day, my memory was money...not so much anymore. It seems the older I get, the harder it is for me to retain information.

AND, there are three of them. It gets confusing, ok!?!

Spotting trends has especially been an issue since Ryan has taken over most of the nighttime checks. I am a firm believer that nighttime is THE most important time to get things right. Only because it is the easiest time to get things in order. Once nighttime numbers are on track, you have won half the battle. So, since we split up the blood testing duties, when the boys wake up out of range I'm hard-pressed to know if it is human/husband error, or if basals need to be tweaked.

Communication has been pretty much sucking eggs. When I call my hubby at work in the mornings and ask what was up with sugars...he generally doesn't remember. It is usually something like, "Two were good, one needed a correction." I'm not pointing fingers or anything...my swelly brain can't remember things anymore either...remember?

So let me get to the heart of this post right this minute...I hate trying to keep track of numbers. I start with good intentions, writing everything down and it never lasts long. It is my swelly brain rebelling to be sure. For YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS I wrote down every blessed blood sugar number there was, along with every carb that passed through the boys' lips. Once the doc said we didn't have to anymore...that was it. I didn't do it anymore. Ever.

Sure, I would copy numbers off blood sugar monitors...but when the third was diagnosed that all got thrown out the window. All my boys use the same meter...the one that is closest to them at the time. We have a good 10 of them floating around the house and around town. So now we count on the information download from the boys pumps to spot the trends. Trouble is, I don't download them...only the endo does.

Yes, I CAN download them. I just don't like it. Those graphs make me throw up. They make me cry. It is too much information!!! I can't do it...I just can't!! (And...end of dramatic scene...)

So a few weeks ago I finally came up with the solution.

Well, maybe not THE solution, but A solution.

The whiteboard!

Ta da!



We aren't brilliantly consistent with it or anything...but it has helped a ton! The boys even have been writing in their numbers at night and in the morning.

Not the solution to everything. I totally get that I didn't invent the wheel here...

But it's a solution none the less.

And the best part is...I can wipe those numbers away in one swoop. They are not permanent. Very cathartic to erase them away and start fresh!

I'm pretty sure many, if not most of the amazing people who are reading this...(you?)...keep very detailed, computer spreadsheet layouts of every number/bolus/correction/carb...and that makes my little whiteboard look like tinker toys to your Metropolis. But we all do what we can.

I'm doing the best I can.

Even if the best I can comes in the form of blue, black, green and red whiteboard markers...

Teeter. Totter. Breathe.

I'm on a teeter totter.

I'm up in the air...I can feel the wind in my hair...the view is just fine.

Diabetes isn't that big of a deal.

I'm on a teeter totter.

I've hit the bottom...I feel the hardness of the reality...My head aches from banging the ground.

Diabetes is SUCH a big deal.

I'm on a teeter totter. I'm sitting in the middle. I'm neither up nor down.

I'm ok.

That is my life.

Riding the teeter totter day after day.

I can't make it stop.

I'm up.

I'm down.

I'm ok.

Tis Our Diabetic Life.

Some days I feel like I'm stuck on the ground. My pockets are filled with weights. I can't move. My tears water the dandelions. On these days, all there is...is diabetes. It's a big deal. It is such a big deal.

Other days I'm flying high. Diabetes has nothing on me. My laughter echoes through the clouds. I'm light as a feather and I can stay up all day long. Numbers are good...there are no worries...deep breath...

It never lasts long.

Because what goes up...

Must come down.

But the middle. The middle is where I spend most my time. I'm centered there. There is no up and down....there is just calm. There is no comfy seat in the middle. I have to brace myself with both hands to stay there. But the middle is a safer place. The middle is where I need to be.

I'm okay when I'm in the middle.

I'm on a teeter totter.

Every day.

Every hour.

Where will I wake up tomorrow? Will I be up? Will I be down? Will I be bracing myself in the middle?

Only tomorrow knows.

Too bad, the teeter totter isn't as fun as it looks.

I'd rather have both feet on the ground. I see people walk by me every day with their feet on the ground. I wonder if they know how lucky they are not to ride every day? I wonder if they have any idea how much I want to walk with my feet on the ground too?

I wonder if they even know I'm on the teeter totter?

Can they see me going up and down, up and down, up and down?

Do I make it look fun?

Are they on their own invisible teeter totters too?

I'm on a teeter totter.

And honestly...all I can do, is try to enjoy the ride.

The one where I get a little religious.

This morning at church I was checking L's blood sugar while the congregation sang the opening hymn. The lancet must have been set at deeper setting than usual, as his finger bled profusely after the shunk. Unprepared, I wiped the blood with my hand...cleaning it from his fingers to mine. I looked at my blood stained hands as the chorus of the Easter song rang in my ears, "He is Risen!"

Wiping the blood from my fingers, our mortality sat in grime reality in front of me.

We are mortal.

We are human.

We are imperfect.

Living a diabetic life is a never ending parallel to living our mortal one. Constant corrections.

As I need to make constant corrections to the boys blood sugars, I need to make constant corrections to the way I live my life.

Because I'm not perfect.

I don't know why I picture millions in the world that are perfect. Upon further thought...I'm hard pressed to think of even one.

No one is perfect. Everyone has their own story...their own demons to face.

My mind draws back to my life when I was a new mother. I'm pretty sure the first 10 years of motherhood was me trying to convince others I was perfect. The "perception" that people had of me was paramount to anything else. Years have passed and it seems I'm burning the candle at the other end. I couldn't be perfect, so I've given up.

"Why even try?" I would often say to myself. "I don't have the time or the energy to do the job to my perfectional standard, so I'll sit this one out."

I'm tired of my apathy. I'm tired of shrugging everything off. I have a lot of fight left in me. I have a lot to offer. I stand ready to make a difference...or rather, I'm at the threshold of being ready.

Blood is a powerful image. As I stared at the bright red smears on my hand this morning, I thought of the ultimate sacrifice Jesus Christ made for me. What I do to in regards to the boys diabetes is but a small sacrifice compared to His. I can't use our situation as an excuse to not get involved anymore. I'm so tired of being tired. Life was meant to be LIVED. Imperfectly...constantly correcting our course. I'm not a bad person because I'm not a perfect pancreas. My best is just going to have to be good enough.

I'm mortal. The blood that runs through my veins tells me that.

It is time for me to accept myself for who I am. It is time to open my eyes to my imperfections and embrace them.

I owe it to the Redeemer to appreciate this body, and this mind that I was given. It is time for me to me to get over myself.

He is risen. And so has my confidence.

Help Wanted: full time shoulder sitter

"I'm spinning plates and doing nothing well."

I keep saying that over and over in my head and I have to wonder if it is really true, or if it is my self-deprecating "I'll-Never-Be-Good-Enough" inner judger doing all the talking.

You know?

It's like I have the devil on both shoulders.

"Meri, just give up...you are going to make a mess of it."

"Meri, you are a joke, stop before you make it worse."

"Meri, why even try? You don't have time to do it right!"

"Meri, you could do SO much better...you are letting people down!"

"BTW Meri, you are fat."

Yeah...devils are no fun at all.

So what does one do when the Devils spend the entire day picking on...one? Well, me.

What do I do?

What to do...what to do...

I don't have an answer for that one.

I always say, "You can't do better than your best."

I believe that. But what if you have no energy for your best? What if...all your get up and go, got up and left?

I need to refuel! I need a vacation! Hey, that Hawaii comment in my last post wasn't just me blowing hot air...my brain needs a serious break.

Lately, I forget everything. I remember half of what needs to be done, and forget the rest. I'm having to do double the duty because half of me forgets what the other half expects of it. Not okay when you are the mother to three boys who have Type 1. Not. Okay.

Am I losing you?

Am I losing my mind?

Is the blog-post-emotional-roller-coaster I've been taking you on the past few months making you rethink your trip to Disney?

Just a couple questions I am going to leave you with as I end this completely random, and completely unhelpful-to-anyone-in-the-world-post.

I'll be back soon, hopefully with a better outlook on things. I've put out a classified ad for an angel to sit on my shoulder full time. I need one of these little devils edged out asap.

Speaking of help wanted...I still haven't filled THIS position yet. Please let me know if you have any leads!

CSI: Diabetes

If my house were presented before a judge and jury, we would be convicted of afternoon lows in a heartbeat.

I've been cleaning up the crime scene all morning.

Four juice boxes thrown on the blood sugar station, completely depleted of its juice. Crushed from the force of suction from a young boy's satiating eagerness.

Test strips littering the floor from harried blood sugar testing.

Tubes of yogurt and banana peels lay on the kitchen table like corpses...ready for their chalk outline.

Inside the refrigerator, pieces of hot dog torn off...incriminating evidence that Lawton received a treat for alerting on a low.

Four blood sugar monitors taking cover in different geography of the house...each with a history more incriminating than the next.

And the creme de la creme of evidence...the DNA within blood smears on the low food cupboard from hands that moments before had been poked by a lancet.

It's all there...and before the jury goes out I am confessing.

We are guilty.

My hands are in front of me, ready to be taken away...

To Hawaii maybe?

DO, and his ugly step brothers WHY and HOW.

My heart is heavy.

Several of my closest friends in the online community are facing new trials.

It makes me ask the question that has eaten me alive in the past..."WHY?"

"WHY must families that already face hardships far beyond anything they ever imagined, WHY must they face more?"

Unfortunately, back in the day, WHY and me used to be tight.

And now here he is again, trying to worm his way back into the recesses of my swelly brain...persistently trying to buy tickets onto my train of thought.

But I ain't selling him any.

Because WHY gets us nowhere. We sell him tickets to our thought trains and SCREEEECH, everything comes to an abrupt halt. No progress can be made with WHY on board. How do I know? Because of my BFF relationship with WHY...I know firsthand what a poop disturber he is.

There is no answer to WHY.

WHY is only there to make us miserable.

There is no strength in WHY.

WHY is there to take our minds away from the things that are really important, like our blessings. He wants to preoccupy us with his time so there is no room for anything else. WHY is extremely needy.

Then there is WHY's brother HOW. We wonder HOW the heck we can survive the heartache. We convince ourselves it is impossible. HOW isn't even an option. There is no answer to HOW. We can only take things one day at a time and in doing so, HOW will not become an answered question, but rather a way of life.

HOW?

I don't know how. We just DO.

DO.

If we move forward and DO...things eventually get better. (or worse, and then better.) Time heals. I am a living, breathing example of that.

Yes, DOing means we will fail. Not every blood sugar will be in range. Not every carb count will be right on. But we are warriors...we fight and we do not give up. Often as parents of children with diabetes we start out losing the battle...but we eventually win it. We eventually win every single one. Sure the battle can go on for days...but that doesn't mean we are losers. In the end we find a solution, and we win.

"Winning!" (Had to throw in some Charlie Sheen.)

I found this quote and it made me cry. I am a crier. I own it.

So I thought I would share. I had to read it slowly a couple times to really get the message loud and clear.

"It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows great enthusiasms, great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

- Theodore Roosevelt

Amen Mr. Roosevelt. Amen.

Sympathizing with Fred Sanford.

The other day after school I had the boys test their sugars and report back...well more like yell back, what their numbers were.

L- Wouldn't tell me. He just did his march to the low cupboard all the while maintaining intense eye contact with me...it's a wonder he doesn't run into a wall. So I knew he was low.

B- Came in and sat by me on the couch. "I'm 42."

Me: "YOU'RE 42!!!!" Grabbing my heart...

B- "No, ONE 42. 1-4-2"

Me: "Geez B, no mumbling when you tell me your number. I'm having heart palpitations."

J walks in with his 13 year old smirk. "I'm 489."

Before I can ask what the what, he giggles like a 2 year old.

J: "I'm just messin with you! I'm 129."

Is it a wonder I'm not in a mental institution?

I'd like to say this was an isolated incident, but the fun presses on!

B has mumbled half numbers to me THREE times since then, and L has continues to remain silent, reveling in his independence.

J...J isn't any better. He continues to joke/tease/LIE just to get some sort of reaction out of me.

"Why J? Why? Do you have no idea the pain you are causing me? My brain is swelly enough as it is!"

"If I told you the real number right away, you would be all, 'Whatever, ok.' But when I tell you an off number, and then SURPRISE you with a good one...then you are so relieved you practically want to have a party."

Teenagers. He's thirteen and he already has the screwed up logic of a sixteen year old. As sick as his logic is though, it's probably true. Regardless, I feel like Fred Sanford lately, constantly clutching my heart...."This is the big one! Elizabeth! Elizabeth! I'm coming home to you!"

Getting to know the man in the rainbow tie.

He was the gentle looking man in the corner with a rainbow tie. When I walked into the room after lunch and saw him there, I thought it would be nice to introduce myself.

I walked over to him and said, "Hello, I'm Meri Schuhmacher."

"Hello," he said, "My name is Richard Rubin."

"Nice to meet you."

And I walked on. As I settled into my seat, introductions for the next half of our session began. Dr. Francine Kaufman introduced him. She kissed him enthusiastically on the cheek and said, "Everyone in this profession has learned at his feet. If you don't know him...you probably shouldn't be here."

I sunk in my seat. I had no idea who he was. Filled with shame I grabbed my pen and poised it for action. If I didn't know him now, I dang well would by the end of his session!

His name was DR. Richard Rubin, Associate Professor at Johns Hopkins University.

For the record: I now know who he is, and I love him. Seriously, I wanted to wrap him up in a gum wrapper and put him in my purse.

He started his speech with pictures of his family, and his connections to type 1 Diabetes. First his sister, then his son. I bawled like a baby. We all know that is how I roll. Here is a tip for the next forum Medtronic...Kleenex on the tables! I was 5 minutes into the water works before I realized I had a napkin under my can of Diet Pepsi. This man was one of the firsts to recognize the emotional element to diabetes. He wanted doctors to be cognoscente of the impending burn out that ALL people with diabetes face.

Most of his speech is a blur to me. I was transfixed on his words...wide eyed. He so eloquently explained how much he "gets it." The entire room nodded in unison as he spoke of Diabetes Burnout and his advice how to curb it.

What he wanted to convey, and what I always have believed..is it's all about perspective. And laughing.

Perspective and laughing.

90% of those who read this blog are parents of children who have Type 1 Diabetes. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that our biggest ailment is GUILT.

Every time a number is high. We feel guilty we didn't bolus enough, or SWAG properly, or take in consideration the emotional aspects of our child's day.

Every time a low number flashes before us, we are ridden with guilt that we should have bolused less, or we should have stepped back to look at the bigger picture of the day...or seen the pattern of lows from days before.

Every time anything happens, be it an occlusion in the pump, or a Chinese food buffet gone wrong, we blame ourselves.

Dr. Ruben encourages us not to look at things as "mistakes," But rather to think of our efforts as an "experiment" to get information.

He says DON'T look back...look forward and ask yourself, "What can I do next time."

Letting go of the guilt is a big one. It goes against the metaphorical grain of a parent. We want to bang our head against a tree again and again and lament on how badly we messed up. It took me 12 years to be able to look at a 400 on the screen and not feel like 100% loser. Do you feel like that 400 is your fault, or diabetes fault? I reckon many of you feel as though it is your fault. That you failed your child. I still have my moments, but I am able to let it go more easily these days.

Let's face it, guilt is like throwing kerosene on a forest fire. It isn't going to do anyone any good.

To help with the feeling of failure, there was a great story brought up about Thomas Edison. A man came into Edison's lab and saw all his failed experiments. "Why do you continue to try to invent the light bulb after failing 5000 times?"

"I don't think of it as 5000 failures," says Edison. "I think if it as 5000 steps closer to a solution."

Booya! Love that!

Dr. Rueben also gave some tips for avoiding diabetes distress.

* Keep your eyes on the prize.

*Motivation has to be personal...it has to come from you. (For us parents, I think that motivation may be a bit easier than those who live with it. Our motivation is a healthy future for our child/children. They are our constant reminder. Their sweet faces is why we keep going.) Whatever our motivation, it needs to be personal, present and positive.

The biggest thing I took in was the importance of looking at your successes. Dr. Ruben says there is a TREMENDOUS benefit to looking at success rather than failure.

As parents it seems some days/weeks/months...all we do is fail. As a parent of three type 1's, it seems sometimes I am set up to fail. I mean really, what are the chances that all three of my boys are right on target? We are REALLY hard on ourselves. But we can move forward by recognizing that we ARE doing things right. Looking at success can lift our spirits. We can all be better parent-pancreases if we look at things positively, rather than negatively.

If we do something right, ask why it went right, and what we did to get it right.

Sure, sometimes it is dumb luck, but that dumb luck is a victory none the less!

Lastly we learned that we all need to find a way to get the support we need, and we all need to find a way to relax. Yes, parents with children with diabetes need support too! We can't do it alone! Find a friend who gets it! (Hey, I'm one right here!) Find a way to relax! (Hey, blogging is great way to get it all out!) And most importantly, find a way to laugh.

Laughter really is the best medicine.

Dr. Ruben asked me how I relax...and since I was put on the spot, I said going out with my husband. But afterward I wanted to kick myself. Honestly, as much as going out with my husband is DA BOMB, the best way for me to relax is to blog. I don't plan out my posts. I sit in front of the computer and just start typing what is in my heart. I wasn't planning on blogging about Dr. Ruben today...but I saw my notes on my dresser and laughed when I saw a note to myself, "Meri, get over it! You are doing a good job!" Maybe I need to make that into a plaque. :)

I hope I didn't bore you with all my notes, but I wanted you to get a feel for the experience I had. Dr. Ruben had an intense desire for us to go back and tell all of you these things. He wishes as much as I do that all of you were there with me. Dr. Rueben is good people. For sure.

Dr. Richard Ruben has co written a bunch of books. Google him and check them out for yourself! I won "Sweet Kids" in a drawing at the end of the forum. I can't wait to dive into it.

Next time I meet Dr. Ruben I won't walk on. I will thank him profusely for his tireless work to get endos to understand the importance of emotional help for those with diabetes. His efforts have made a difference to so many in this world...now, that includes me.

Meri Tyler Moore or Sponge Mom Sappy Pants.

I was bone dry.

I entered the airport terminal like a weathered sponge who had sat in the sun for days. My body ached for relief.

I didn't know what to expect from the Medtronic Advocate Forum I was to attend. It was a complete unknown, and although I was scared to death of traveling alone for the first time...to see people I had only seen within the 17 inch parameters of my computer screen, I couldn't help but smirk to myself as I walked through the jetway to the airplane...

I was ready.

As dry as I was, I was ready to soak up all the hope for the future I could. There was a heaviness to the moment...I knew this trip would mean something.

But when I got off the plane in L.A. the heaviness abated...there was a lightness to my step. The adrenaline had taken over as I was alive with anticipation. If I had a hat, I'm sure I would have thrown it. It was a Meri Tyler Moore moment for sure.

The second I entered the hotel lobby and saw the group of bloggers/writers/advocates chatting in the group I felt plumper already. Just to see their smiling, enthusiastic faces made my trip worthwhile. I spent the evening soaking up every word I could. They couldn't talk about anything without it being fascinating to me. They were my age...some maybe a bit younger, some maybe a bit older, but regardless I felt only motherly towards each and every one. It was like looking into the eyes of my boys' future...and I wanted to know it all.

People with diabetes are remarkable. Adults and children alike. There is no getting around it.

Entering Medtronic was humbling. They had a museum of insulin pump/diabetes history that brought tears to my eyes instantly. I was emotional the entire day. Wrapping my brain around the information being presented brought a plethora of emotions to the surface, with the most immense emotion being gratitude.

Geniuses were paraded in front of us. Each one with a personal connection to Type 1 Diabetes. Each one with a drive and thought process far beyond anything I've ever imagined. I wish everyone of you could have witnessed the emotion, the genuine enthusiasm these people have. The human element of Medtronic was the clincher.

We asked how. They would tell us.

We asked why. They would tell us.

We asked what and when. They couldn't tell us...well not exactly.

They couldn't tell us about any products that have not yet been green lighted by the FDA. We vented our frustrations and they echoed back each frustration. All they could tell us is we are going to be happy with what is coming.

They are frustrated. It is like they are being water boarded by the FDA...they are being asked to jump ridiculous hurdles to get us the technology that we are longing for. They have it ready. They want to bring it to us. They are bringing us what they can, as soon as they can. There are tradeoffs for this...but every decision they make is with us in mind. The technological future for our children, and for our friends with diabetes is in good hands.

Lane Desborough is Medtronic's Project Strategist. I think they invented this position just for him. He is that genius. His son was diagnosed recently and through a series of events he ended up working for Medtronic. He is thinking outside the box and is crossing industry lines to find new innovative ways to further pump technology. He knows we have too much stuff to carry around and dreams about getting it all down to one device. He too is frustrated that he can get any number in the world with his cell phone, except the most important...his son's blood sugar number. He is working on it.

Seriously, I am going to sleep better at night knowing this guy is on our side. Medtronic also has brought in the mother of the Droid. She is working for the company now. Can you tell I'm impressed?

I'm just a mom. I'm not a reporter or someone with thousands of followers. Sure, there is a chance I'm more easily impressed than others in this world...but I'm not completely gullible. I think everyone in attendance was pleasantly surprised with this forum. They even brought in Dr. Richard Rubin from Johns Hopkins to talk about the "person." Medtronic knows diabetes isn't just about machines...there is a person behind the pump making hundreds of decisions a day...and that person risks facing burn out from this demanding disease. Dr. Rubin is getting his own post...I don't want to overwhelm you with everything I learned. I so wish each and every one of you were in that room with me.

I was dripping with hope when I left. I squeezed every drop of juice out of this experience. If I was a dry sponge before I attended...I left a rotund squishy mess. Hell, just call me Sham-Wow.

I'm owning my sappiness people. Maybe it was being surrounded by such amazing/fun/intelligent PWD's. Maybe it was hearing the Vice President of CGM business say, "We hear you." Maybe it was watching a room full of people meticulously assemble each CGM sensor by hand. Maybe it was splitting up in small groups and having face time with people in the company that can make things happen. Maybe it was knowing that the people with Medtronic that DON'T have diabetes, sign up regularly to wear the product...use the product. They want to know what it is like. More than anything is seems Medtronic empathizes with our plight. And that gives me hope beyond measure.

Maybe my attendance to this forum didn't change the world.

But it changed me.



Thank you Medtronic for the invitation. Why you picked me exactly, I do not know. But this experience has changed my path. No, not completely...but the compass is shifting. I want to know more. I'm hungry for information...if I can make the smallest of a difference, I stand ready to do it.

Please visit Amy at Diabetes Mine to learn more of the specific details...she also has posted the "silly" pic of all of us at the forum.

Leavin'...on a jet plane. :)

My laptop died in my arms yesterday.

I think I died a little bit along with it.

It was my first laptop.

I started this blog on it.

I discovered the Diabetic Online Community within its bright screen.

I started my Facebook account, my twitter account and typed my heart out tinkering on its keys.

Let me tell you, it saw its share of tears on the keyboard.

Maybe I killed it with love.

Whatever happened, I got a new one. And no...I don't have a problem. Getting a new laptop the day after your old one breaks is VERY normal. I can live without being on line.

Cha!

...for like 48 hours! (Hey, I didn't want to push it!)

So here I am on this new laptop, who I was sure I would hate...and I'm turning out to love. I'm liking the way it feels.

I wonder what kind of firsts I will have with my new lap top..."Lappy". (Yeah...that name isn't going to work.) Who knows, maybe I'll write my book on this laptop. LOL! LOL! I don't think books let you write in short, unending sentences with ellipsis galore!

Anyway, the real reason I'm writing today is I wanted to let you know I will be away for a few days...but never fear, I will return with a TON to blog about! Medtronic has invited little ol' me to attend an Advocate Forum in Los Angeles. I'm leaving on the jet plane today baby! There will be some peeps from the blogging community on twitter giving you the play by play. They'll be using the hashtag #MedtronicDAF. My phone doesn't do internet...(super sad face) so you'll have to wait for all the juicy details from me when I get back.

Until then, adieu.

Adieu. Adieu, to you and you and you! (Shout out to the Sound of Music!)

Wish me luck on my first solo trip...ever! It's almost like I'm a grown up!

PS In the interest of full disclosure, Medtronic is flying me out there, feeding me and giving me a place to lay my head. They didn't ask me to blog about my trip...but you know me...I will! My views will be my own...but who are we kidding...I'm a huge fan of Medtronic!

Sweet Peeps: My new blog roll.

In an effort to clean up some of my real estate...I've followed the lead of some of my friends, and made a separate blog for my blog roll. All ya gotta do is click on my peeps in the side bar. They look like this...


My peeps will take you to all the linky wonderfulness of my blog roll!

Go on! Dive into the DOC blogosphere...the water's fine!

And hey, while you're looking around, check out my new disclaimer at the very bottom of this blog. Thanks!

My rainbow has flair.

He is my squishy.

He is everything a 7 year old should be. He is innocent, he is adorable, and he is funny.

He is my baby.

Everything he does brings a smile.

Looking at his big round sweet eyes makes everything better, always.

L is my rainbow.

Last summer he began feeling his lows and he hasn’t looked back since. He has always had such pride in feeling the lows, but nowadays it’s almost like he takes ownership of them. It makes him feel grown up to handle the lows on his own, so he handles them the only way he knows how…with flair.

He won’t tell me he feels low when we are home. He just goes and checks his sugar. Then, once his suspicions are confirmed, he’ll march past me at a good clip, maintaining intense, serious eye contact until he gets to the low cupboard. Once he is there he directs his attention to the choices inside.

If he grabs an apple juice, I know he is in the 50’s.

If he grabs a banana or a pudding, I know he is in the 60’s.

He’ll eat the treat in an important manner and then walk by me slowly, waiting for me to ask what his number was…and then he’ll nonchalantly say something like, “Oh! I was just 62.” Not missing a beat to his swagger, he’ll walk out of the room with his chin up.

Sometimes he’ll be low and I’ll be in the laundry room or something. He’ll come in and say, “By the way, I was 56.”

“You better eat something.”

And he’ll retort back in a shocked manner, “Well, of course I ALREADY ate something.” Kinda’ like he’s saying, “Duh mom! No brainer!”

He knows it is a very grown up thing to do. He is taking control of his diabetes in his own way, and that makes me burst with pride.

He’s so good at feeling his lows, he came to me yesterday…brows furrowed, needing some answers.

(Sitting on my lap,) “Mom, I felt low and I checked my sugar. But it said 111! So then I went and washed my hands really good and it said 112. I’m so confused! I’m always right!”

“We are having lunch in a few minutes; we’ll get you feeling better in no time!”

Wrong answer.

I should have said what I usually do, “The monitor can say what it wants, but you should always listen to what your body is telling you, go grab a snack.”

But I didn’t, and my husband walked through the door at that very minute, and within minutes he was on the phone with my sister in law, who instantly said she was coming to pick up the boys for lunch, (and a sleepover!) So we jumped up to pack up the stuff and they were out the door within 10 minutes.

As she drove away I yelled, “I have no idea what their sugars are! They need to test when they get to your place!” (They live just a few blocks away.)

Later I found out that L’s sugar was in the 60’s when they got to her house.

Never question a seven year olds sugar intuition.

On a side note: My boys went through phases where they would feel low and the meter would say otherwise. They would call me from school, upset…promising they felt low, but they would always be in the 100’s.

I don’t know if they were just dropping fast, or what…but I always had them eat a snack. (Even if it was just 3 small pretzels.) It made them feel better. They needed to know that I believed them. They needed to know that they always need to trust what they are feeling. Each boy went through the phantom low phase, and each only lasted a couple months. I wanted to throw this in because I know many others have had this problem in the past, and I wanted you to know it is pretty normal.

I don’t want the boys to ever doubt what they are feeling.

Feeling lows is a blessing, I know that.

And every time L walks by me with his important march and intense eye contact…I say a silent prayer of thanks…

Because my little boy feels his lows.

AND because my little boy is so freaking wonderfully squishy cute! (Seriously, can I freeze him in time or something? Can I can him and put him on a shelf?)

Checking in

I seriously have nothing to blog about.

And you know what? I think that is blogworthy.

Usually I sit down at the computer and throw up some post from the depths of my soul. But today…meh…I got nothing.

And man, nothing never felt so good.

The boy’s basals are on track.

The boys are happy.

Daddy is happy.

Mama is happy.

Life is what is supposed to be. Just plain ol’ life.

No drama for the D Mama.

It probably has something to do with the boys being on Spring Break, but looking back, there have been many more days like this than not. And I’m thankful for each and every one of them.

‘Cause it means, we are ok.

We are SO ok.

For those of you who are having a bad time right now. For those of you who see no light at the end of the tunnel…It doesn’t last forever.

I promise.

I have three boys with type 1 diabetes and I have nothing to blog about today.

Tiernan’s Got Talent

Susan is one of my dearest friends. We were introduced by a mutual friend a few years ago and forged an instant bond. Sure, we both have been blessed with multiple diabetics, but I like to think we would have been friends regardless. She has a wicked sense of humor and a smile that would light up any room. Her laughter is contagious, her wisdom runs deep and her heart is big as all get out. It isn’t unreasonable to deduce that from her wonderfulness, she has produced wonderful children…in fact I’m sure that was always a given. Her children are down to earth, friendly and bright.

One of her boys is Tiernan. He looks like a normal teenager. One wouldn’t immediately know that behind his curly locks and wide smile sits a deep talent derived from his life experience, his family, his faith, and fortunate family genes. I have a strong belief that all T1’s are amazing…but Tiernan takes amazing to an entire new level.

Below you will find a poem written by Tiernan. He is 16 and was diagnosed a good 6 years ago…months after his brother. I am proud to host his work and will be excited to see him published one day, where I will exclaim…”I knew his family when…”

War
And Peace
Love
And hate
There is a great dichotomy that exists here
Funny that two should be able to exist simultaneously
In such a small area
Also kind of funny
That we fully embrace opposites
As brothers
For what is war?
But Peace’s ugly brother?
And what is hate?
But that which gives meaning to Love?
How can we know light?
Except by that which saves us from Dark?
How can we know Health?
Without having Sickness lurking over our shoulders?
Safety is nothing
Without Fear
And all that we know to be GOOD
Only exists because it is defined by the BAD
And that to which we know no opposite
We take for granted.
Look at the air
The air is thankless
Because we do not know vacuum
So maybe
Only those who have suffered the tendrils of suffocation
Are thankful for each breath
Just like those that have starved
Are the only ones thankful for each bit of food
And just as the starving hate the glutton
So do the sick silently hate the well
And as we sick slowly waste
We watch the well in their ignorant euphoria
And dream of a day
With the sound of flutes
And drums
When we will complete our wasting
And become nothing
And maybe
In nothingness
Be free
And healthy

~ Tiernan O'Rourke

Our Diabetic Life: Blogjacked by Meri's Phone.

High apple pie in the sky hopes!

Often, it's like we are banging our head against the wall...hoping for a different result every time we go in for the next bang.

"Maybe this time it will bring a different result!" We say enthusiastically to ourselves as we bolus our child for the impossible meal in front of them.

And we fail. Not all the time, but dang if it doesn't FEEL like all the time.

Man, we are SO SO hard on ourselves. We don't take our full time pancreas gig lightly, that is for sure...

Where do we find the energy to keep trying? We are like The Little Engine That Could! We think we can! We think we can! We think we can! All this "think we can" stuff is mentally exhausting! Just once I'd like to say..."I know I can't." But, when it comes to our children, we all know that just isn't an option.

So we dig down deep in the recesses of our soul and we find that energy! We pull that "I think I can" mentality straight out of our gut. Constantly working for a better result. How do we recover from the last bang on the wall...and then find the energy to bang our head again? I'll tell you how. All our "I think I can,"...it comes from HOPE!

Every time we bolus...every time we change a basal rate...every time we SWAG a cupcake or a Chinese food buffet plate stacked higher than the Eiffel Tower...EVERY TIME...we cling to hope that we are gonna get this one right!

Dang if we aren't going to move that rubber tree plant!! We are like the mighty ant in Frank Sinatra's song. Diabetes is a huge giant of an obstacle. Logic says we can't win. But we spit on our hands and we pull up our big girl/big boy underwear and try anyway.

High hopes. We will keep going, because each and every time we HOPE with all our heart that we got it right this time.

This one if for you my friends!

The Bullet Train

We weren’t doing anything, I swear.

We were just strolling down the boardwalk of life when BAM…the bullet train swept us up!

Strep.

The Strep Bullet Train.

We went from a leisurely pace to supersonic speed in an instant. There was no going back. There was no getting off. We needed to stop the train before our fate turned to careening down the cliffs at the tracks end.

When you are on a bullet train your mind becomes jello. Every decision must be made instantly…and when there is urgency in your decisions, your decisions don’t come easily.

If I was on the boardwalk…I could have calmly and thoughtfully put together a plan of attack.

If we had warning…

But no warning allowed…Illness...BAM! Make decisions and make them now.

How do we stop the step train?

The doctor!

He couldn’t see us until the next day.

Playing the Type 1 Card didn’t work.

They did not care that my son could not, would not, eat or drink.

They did not care that my son NEEDED to eat and drink.

"Tomorrow," they say.

The night on the bullet train was eerily quiet…the calm before the storm. With every hour we could feel the train gain its momentum.

And the next morning? The engineer began to lose control.

Sips of water. Sips of Apple juice.

Throw up. Throw up. Throw up.

Doctor confirms strep…medicine given.

Throw up. Throw up. Throw up.

Ice cream?

Hurts.

Apple sauce?

Hurts.

Apple juice?

Hurts.

Slurpee?

Victory!!

Ketones: 0.5

Victory!

Tummy calms.

Victory!

Throat is an angry raging mess of hurt.

Baby steps.

Baby sips.

The bullet train is losing steam...figuratively of course. Who knows what a bullet train runs on. Fear, maybe?

The train continues down its track…we are not allowed off…but yet it slows. And decisions come easier.

In a few days we will be allowed off.

And we will take our path, leisurely walking the boardwalk until the kidnapping terror of the bullet train sweeps up our family again.

When you see a train, think of many families that are dealing with the sick day…gripping their seats…praying for the train to slow. It is a scary ride. One we don’t have much control over.

We can only hold on tight and make split second decisions, hoping and praying the train will let us off at the next station.

It isn’t easy stopping a bullet train.

The blood sugar check/no pain enigma

I checked L’s sugar for him today and I asked him straight out…”Did that hurt?”

“Nope,” he said.

“No?” I said.

“Nope,” he said again.

Wait a minute…STOP THE BLOG!

(Long, dramatic, thoughtful pause…)

It has to hurt, right?

A little bit? Right?

It hurts me just pullin’ the trigger. It has to hurt him! I mean I just shunked a needle into his finger and drew blood. It HAS to hurt.

Then…no more than 10 minutes later, I see J checking his sugar…ON. HIS. THUMB!

Rewind the tape! When J was younger, and I did most the checking, the thumb was OFF LIMITS! It was a HUGE deal. No thumb poking…EVER!

And here he was right in front of me testing his thumb like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What are you doing?! I thought there was no trespassing on the thumb!”

“That was when I was little.”

“Since when are you not little anymore?”

“I’m 13, it doesn’t bother me at all anymore.”

“Seriously J, I thought your thumb hurt more?”

“Turns out it doesn’t.” And he walks away as my jaw falls open, practically unhinged, like a recently abandoned swing set.

So then I decide to do more research…I turn to B…my hypochondriac.

“B, did that just hurt when you checked your sugar?”

“No, why?”

“Because it had to hurt.”

“Maybe a little…I don’t really remember. It is like a speck. Who remembers a speck?“

I’m gobsmacked.

So as I’m trying to wrap my head around this I decide to check my sugar.

Son of a gun! It REALLY hurt!

I have seen my boys wince before. I know there is pain involved, but when you do something 10,000+ times…I guess your brain acclimates to it all...?...

Maybe my type 1 friends can shed some light on this.

I asked J how he thought it was. How come it doesn't hurt? He said, “I’m awesome. That is the only answer.”

I’m going to stop wracking my brain over this one and go with that.

My boys are just awesome.

What About Meri?

Abraham Lincoln said: “When you look for the bad in mankind, expecting to find it, you usually will.”

Meri says: “If you look for the bad in diabetes, in life and in yourself, expecting to find it, you usually will.”

On the flip side…

Meri says: “If you look for the GOOD in diabetes, in life and in yourself, expecting to find it, you usually will.”

You get what you look for.

My post last week, Finding the Warmth, was the accumulation of weeks of me constantly looking for the bad in myself and the world around me…constantly worrying how things will affect me, constantly worrying how my faults will affect my family….constantly looking at what I am not, rather than what I am.

I got what I was looking for. All the trash built up and I had a bit of a break down last Thursday.

What a difference 5 days makes.

I turned the switch and I opened the door. I allowed myself to let the light in. I wouldn't allow the light in before because I didn't feel worthy of it.

I have so many faults.

I feel so inadequate in my station.

Yet today I know that it is my faults that make up the unique me. Today I realize that nobody is perfect. Everyone has a battle that they are waging...we are all fighting the darkness together. What causes the darkness in our lives may be different, but in the end we are all fighting the same thing.

Those who have read my blog long enough know that I roll this way. I have long stints of happy happy joy joy and then I dive…and I dive hard.

But after the long crash and burn, I get up again.

I get what I look for.

Change is in me. I know if I am miserable it is my job to change my perspective. I am a blessed woman and I have an obscenely long list of things to be thankful for, so it stands to reason that I bring on a lot of the miserableness myself.

One of those things I am thankful for is you. Thank you for your warmth and kind comments, they brightened an old D Mama’s heart! I know I don't struggle with this alone. There is a strong force in the world that messes with our self esteem. It can be so hard to turn away from the voices that say you aren’t good enough.

But, I am good enough.

And you are good enough too. Period.

I'm not even close to perfect…but I have something to bring to the table. We all do. No one else is like me…so I wonder why I want to be like everyone else. That would take away all the parts of me that are different than you…and there is no fun in that.

I’ve decided to embrace who I am, work on the parts I don’t like and love my family so fiercely it knocks them over.

One day at a time.

Baby steps.

February Blogger Basal!

Basal is a curious thing. It is the silent hero in the war we fight every day. Drip Drip Drip...it is easy to forget it is there. It is automatically programed to support our children's life...a hero for sure!

Blogger Basal is the silent hero as well. The steady stream of posts throughout the DOC blogosphere silently keep the hearts of readers pumping. It saves us emotionally. We are lifted up by the power of "same."

Today I am proud to host the February Blogger Basal and give you a sampling of the posts that steadily pumped out droplets of light into our souls. Instead of giving my take on the blogs...I'm going to let the bloggers use their own words to warm you...Let us begin!

Haley from NaturallySweett: Diabetes Camp and a Dash of Diabetesaliciousness.

"Diabetes camp is my "heaven on earth" that 2 hour drive is full of insane giggles and smiles. I know I will have the best week of the year, and it is so hard to keep in my excitement. The camp is amazing, the food is amazing, the activities are amazing, the staff is amazing, and my friends are amazing!"

Misty from Life is Like a Box of Chocolates: 2 Years Ago Today...

Haley from the above NaturallySweett wrote Ally a super sweet letter. Allison wrote her a letter back and asked her mother to post it on her blog on her Diagnosis Anniversary...Misty writes:

"My Sweet Allison has something to share. She wanted to write a letter back to Haley. The funny thing is that when we read the letter from Haley at the beginning of the week, she wanted to respond right away. Then she asked me if I could hold onto it and make sure that we sent it to her on Thursday, February 10. So here it goes..." (Click on over to read Ally's sweet letter!)

Kim from Texting my Pancreas: Reaching the Unreachable

Kim wrote a touching post about those out there in the blogosphere that we can't reach...the ones who need understanding and love the most. She writes:

"This Sister- and Brotherhood of the People With a Broken Pancreas - we have an amazing ability to help people live better by being open and honest about life with diabetes, and there are so many more that can be brought into the fold. We ourselves are proof of the power that community has, because of the changes we've seen it bring to our own lives. We have all felt that void - or recognized its existence only after having brought to light and sealed up - before." (Amen to that!)

Reyna over at Beta Buddies: Mixed Emotions on 7%

(We've all been here. We set the bar so high for ourselves!)

"A 7% is GOOD. So why in the heck am I feeling a little bummed? I realize it is ridiculous. And. I hope I am not offending anyone out there with my slightly heavy heart over a perfectly good number. I was secretly hoping for a 6.9% or a 6.8%. Yes, as I am typing this I realize I am a F*&@ Nut. 7% is fine and I should not get stuck in the "numbers trap" and I should not be hinging my emotions on a tenth or two tenth variance from my "desired" A1C. I am setting myself up for failure if I base my mental well being on a number, whether it be age related, weight related, grade related, or diabetes related."

Trev at Three2Treat: Exercise-Good or bad?

"Well, I believe it certainly helps with lowering the A1C and I must say, personally it has probably enabled me to survive 28 years with out complications, especially the first half of my life with D, prior to my understanding about tight control, MDI's, and Pump therapy." He also goes into the fact that it exercise is extremely complicated when it comes to being Type 1. He ends with..."So to answer the question; is exercise good or bad? I guess that depends on how prepared you are."

Donna over at The Sugar Kids Blog: We've Come A Long Way Baby!

Donna talks about an epic low that her son had during church service...

"All of this is not uncommon for us D peeps... we live and re-live this scenario over and over and over again. But, almost two and a half years after diagnosis I was able to do that entire scenario so quickly, so smoothly that no one around us even had a clue that there was something not right. All they saw was a tired little boy and girl sitting with their mama, and mama doing what she could to keep them quiet during mass. Only those sitting right next to us may have noticed the test being done and the juice coming out. The other difference: it used to really rattle me. This saving of my sons life in the middle of church... the grocery store... wherever. Now, its just something we handle. Quickly, quietly, and without incident."

Joanne at Death of a Pancreas: The Understudy

Joanne likens our roles as a pancreas to an unprepared understudy.

"But thankfully, I have always loved improv and I'm pretty good at thinking on my toes. And so here I am; with a pretty big role in a very important production. We're 2 1/2 years into our run and even though I've flubbed a few lines, been late to rehearsals a couple of times and had some diva moments where I've refused to come out of my dressing room, I think I'm doing a pretty adequate job in my role of pancreas."

Alexis at Justices Misbehaving Pancreas: Perception

"How things affect you can solely depend on how you perceive them. Diabetes sucks. We know this. Its bullshit. I hate it. You hate it. Our kids hate it. But tonight as much as I may want to write all the negative, all the things I hate the most I realized my mood, Justices mood, my feelings can be shifted If I change my perception." (This was a great post, and is on the exact same lines of a post I've had brewing in my head since yesterday. :)

Sara at the Ethan and Isaac Show: Grab your O.S. Handle you're in for a ride!

This analogy gave me a big smile. :)

"I'm not sure what other people call that little handle that is above all the passenger doors inside a car but I like to refer to it as the "O.S. handle." You know, the thing you grab right before you feel like yelling, "OH, S@#T!" Well, that's a bit how I feel with diabetes lately. Like stepping into the car with my husband..." (Just wondering...do all husbands drive looking at the scenery, rather than at the road?? :)

Beth at The Beth Chronicles: I'm sorrrryyy. So Sorrryyy.

This is a post where she updates after a long absence of illness, (Boy, can I relate!) One of the things she did was help clean a homeless shelter. Beth writes:

"Saturday, T and I helped our church clean up from Room in the Inn. I met some homeless men and women there, some of whom I would have never thought were homeless if I had met them on the street. That was my first time I had met a homeless person. I never knew I had these misconceptions and stereotypes until my eyes were opened."

Amy at Diabpeepees: Things that go bump.

"Yes, that's a hospital bed you see. And, no, that's not my son wearing girly leggings. It's my 2 year old daughter in the ER. We found ourselves here just days after making payment plan arrangements to cover our 3 year old son's diabetes bills. And though I agonized about going in, I agonized more about not going in and paying the consequences."

(This post speaks too all our crazy mom moments. In the end, she knew she had to take care of her little one and forget about the pocketbook. :)

Michael Hoskins at The Diabetic's Corner Booth: Keeping The Faith For a Cure

Michael wrote this after the JDRF controversy...Money for a cure? Or Money for advancements toward quality of life?

"I'm sure there are many research ideas and various funding issues to delve into, but I'm not qualified to know about that. When it comes to what the JDRF has done for me: they're trying the best they can. I think as a layperson, and as someone who they are doing this all for, that provides me comfort. Regardless of whether I understand all the decision-making and annual report confusion or not... I'll leave the rest to people much smarter than me."

Kandice at Cherished Children: An Unfair Opponent

There have been quite a few deaths in our community this year. Kandice ponders what we can do...

"The problem, however, lies in the fact that even if we were to do every single thing "correctly", T1D doesn't follow the rules. There are so many variables (growth, hormones, activities, nightmares, etc.), that we can never care for our children perfectly. It is in this helplessness, that we continue to do our best, hoping and praying that our child will always wake up the next morning. There have been so many mornings I go to wake up Joyful Monkey and I find myself holding my breath. I guess, I just know that I can't completely control it."

Ashley at Tales of SWAGing: Another Day, Another Retraction

Ashley talks about the misinformation being thrown out there in the media, and the weak retractions that are issued after our community gets up in arms...

"This misinformation, even when it’s retracted, hurts me. And it hurts my community. These people make their retractions and apologies and go about their business. My fellow PWDs and I - as well as our Type 3s - are quite literally bombarded with these myths at every turn. Everyone I come in contact with fancies himself a diabetes expert. Everyone except those of us who know that there’s no such thing."

Amy over at Three*Thirty*Three: Receiving is pretty awesome, too.

Amy won a giveaway and shares the joy with her readers. There are currently many giveaways around the blogosphere! Don't miss out! Amy says:

"Being a parent of a child with a chronic illness, I often find myself depleted and exhausted. The simple nature of T1D is you must give over and over again 24 hours a day 7 days a week 52 weeks of the year . . . you get the picture. Sometimes receiving is pretty awesome too."

Diane from Our Type 1 Trip: New View

"First there is the mom in Julia's class who, in my opinion, is determined that her daughter will have Type 1 diabetes. (I am trying my best not to punch her.) Second was the person who asked me if Julia "still had that diabetes thing." (I didn't even know how to answer that.) Finally was an acquaintance who has no idea about Julia's diagnoses that asked me if I can finally take a deep breath now that both of my kids are in school all day. (I haven't been able to breathe since November.)"

But then she met someone who "gets it!" And it made the day SO much better.

Michelle at Sugar Coated: Disappointment and Determination.

"I'm trying hard to get over my disappointment. But I'm having a hard time with it because I feel like in some ways I've failed my little girl. I know that the higher her number, the higher her risk for complications later on in life. She's been battling this for just over 5 years now and she has many, many more years ahead of her...so I want to make sure that we do the very best we can to keep her as healthy as possible!" (Man, don't we all have this same dialogue go through our head after a disappointing A1C!)

Denise from My Sweetest Boy: Give me a "D"
I liked this post so much, I'm printing it in its entirety!

Devastating diagnosis
Insulin dependent for life
Always on alert
Blood sugar roller coasters
Eat everything but count the carbs
Test throughout the day
Every day, every hour, every minute
Sugar is medicine

Tracy over at The Superhero and The Princess: Who's in charge...

Tracy writes on how she has taken over the basal adjustments for her son, while others are at the mercy of their endos...

"I have a few other T1 Mamas who I know are NOT allowed to make ANY changes on their own. Seriously. One of them was told that if she made any changes on her own or put her son back on his pump, they would call CPS. So, her son ran HIGH for days before they would call her back. The endo made her take him off the pump while he was in the hospital for ketones. He is still back on shots now, and this was a while ago."

Wendy at Candy Hearts: Candy Hearts Supports Life Of A Child

"It is estimated that there are 100,000 children with diabetes around the world who are in need of assistance to access insulin. Without insulin, these children will die within 1 week. $1 (or more) for each of these children. That's our mission. Let's get started."

Wendy has recruited vendors who are willing to give a percentage of their sales to Life Of A Child. The Candy Hearts Collection of Blue Circle Merchandise will bring in funds for insulin for the children who need it most. Click on over and check out her efforts!

Nicole at the WeCARALot Blog: Today is the day..."D" day!

Little Cara celebrated 2 years with Type 1 Diabetes...

"I realize now to mark or label a date with titles like anniversary allows us to realize and recognize how far we have come. It allows us to look back and learn from our mistakes, to find celebrations in our accomplishments and to look forward to the next coming years with new hopes and new dreams of what life will be."

Laura at Houston...we have a problem!: Tiger Mother Approach

Laura links to an article siting the Tiger Mother Approach. That is a very strict approach for managing children with Type 1. This approach was necessary back in the day when we didn't have the amazing tools we have today. Laura doesn't want to hold her son back...she wants to let go of the tiger. Laura writes:

"When Nate was diagnosed we took him out of his preschool class due to fear of the unknown. He’s spent the past year and a half with me but I took the leap last week and signed him up for pre-school starting in the fall. I am both excited and nervous at the same time. I've held him so closely to me since his diagnosis that I do believe he has missed out on things that his sisters got to experience. That stops now. Ready or not world --- here comes Nate!!"

Hallie of The Princess and the Pump: I Could Really Use That

"During the day... completely out of nowhere... came THIS conversation: Sweetpea: Dad, Do you think there will be a cure for diabetes? J: I sure hope so. We will do everything we can... and keep raising money so there can be a cure. Sweetpea: Thanks, Dad. I could really use that."

True dat Sweetpea! True dat!

Heather at Sweet to the soul: Dear Diabetes

Where Heather asks diabetes to back off for awhile. :)

"The problem is that you make my life much more complicated. My life is already complicated. I didn't need one more thing to make it even crazier. Seriously? Are you hearing me here? Especially the past week. The roller coaster you have put me and Lovebug on is just, well simply put; Hell. She doesn't feel good, I am even more exhausted then I normally am (up until now I didn't think that was possible) and my moods are as up and down as Lovebug's blood sugar numbers."

Lora at My Diabetic Child: Thanks

Lora has been having a hard time, my like myself. She posted what was in her heart, and true to form the DOC came to her side to support her in the comments section. Lora writes:

"THE purpose for this post is in response to some of the comments. I laughed through some of them, cried through some of them and then some made me think. Of course, I can relate to them all."


Jen at I Am Your Pancreas: 365:195 Here's To You

Jen blogs about the ups and downs in a 24 hour period. Her day ends with a support group meeting:

"Today, I joined in a monthly Diabetes Support Group. It always feels good to go and meet up with other parents in person and just tawlk (my NY accent is showing). One of the ladies in the group had a lot of extra insulin because she had just switched brands and brought them for some us to stock up on. It was funny to be there in the coffee shop, passing around baggies with vials of insulin like it was normal. Well, I suppose now it certainly is."

Kristi over at My Sugar Bugs: Celebrating Life

Kristi blogs about how her daughter ended up being admitted to the same hospital exactly 6 years to the day when she was admitted and diagnosed as Type 1.

"I have been asked by a couple of people in the past why we celebrate the anniversary of Bee's Type 1 Diagnosis. It must seem crazy to them to celebrate something that changed our lives, and not in a good way. So, I just explained to them that it's not the anniversary of the diagnosis we celebrate. It's the anniversary of the day her life was saved. That is how we look at it."

Heidi from D Tales: I'm Back


Where Heidi catches up on her hiatus! She begins with a heartbreaking battle that their family has been fighting on behalf of their son:

"On top of the health issues, school issues surrounding diabetes had become increasingly worse, so much so that we had to switch Jack’s teacher and place him in another class. Scratch that. We had to battle to ensure his safety at school. The process was upsetting, ridiculous and stressful. And then we had to train a new teacher. (I need to tell you, though, that it was all worth it. His new teacher is fantastic.)"

Lastly is lil' ol' me. :)

Meri at Our Diabetic Life: The most awesome thing I have done, in spite of diabetes is...

I didn't let a diagnosis stop me from having more children. That is a victory for sure!

"We were told we had a 3% chance of having a second child with diabetes. That is a 97% chance that we wouldn’t. But who cares about percentages. You never know where you will fall, so they are useless. All that is important is I have two of the most precious souls in the universe here in my home. Yes, they have diabetes. Yes, I wish they didn’t have to endure diabetes…But they are thriving. And they are happy. And they are part of a bigger picture."

Thank you for those that submitted your posts! And a double thank you to those who made it all the way through this one! Bravo!! (Holy longest post ever Batman!)

Next month Tracy at the Superhero and the Princess will be hosting the Blogger Basal. Be sure to submit your links to her!

Finding the warmth.

What do you do when you hit rock bottom?

What do you do when the wind is sucked right out of you and you’re just lost?

You can’t find the person you want to be…all you know is you are not the person you want to be.

I’m lost.

I’m in a funk.

How do I find my way back to happy?

The clutter of life is stifling my view. All I see is clutter. Where is the beauty? I know it is within my reach…I know it is right there, in front of me…but the clutter blocks the way.

Simplify?

How do you simplify a life such as ours? There is nothing simple here. Everything is complicated. Everything is harder than it should be.

I know what it is. It is my outlook. It is all within. I am creating the clutter. I am making it all harder than it needs to be. I know this because I have been here before. Too many times.

TOO MANY TIMES.

I know the part of me that sees the bigger picture is here. I know it is in my heart. I just need to turn the switch. Turn off the clutter…turn on the light.

But the darkness is overpowering. The light sits waiting behind a closed door…I can see the dim warmth shut behind the door.



I miss the warmth.

I think my family misses it too.

I know my family misses it too.

Where do I begin to like myself again?

I guess I need to start from the beginning…at the root of it all. It is just now occurring to me that I am trying to find my way back on my own, and all I’m doing is making myself more lost. I’m making a mess of things.

I need to ask for help. I’m not sure why I’m throwing this all out there, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not fighting the clutter alone.

We can’t do it alone.

We have to ask for help.

I’m going to drop to my knees now, and ask Him for help.

I know He will help me. I just don’t know why it has taken me so long to ask.

The most awesome thing I have done, in spite of diabetes is...

The most awesome thing I have done in spite of diabetes?

Hands down, easiest question ever...

These two little munchkins right here.


As most of you know, J was diagnosed when he was 8 months old. J is my second son...B and L wern't even on the radar yet.

It was scary, and deliriously confusing when we were told J had Type 1 Diabetes. We spent a week in the hospital…mostly for J to recover from his ketoacidosis…and a little bit because I needed to learn how to take care of my little boy. (The hospital obviously didn’t think this was too big of a deal, they sent me home with a book and my pediatricians home phone number. “Call him when you need to give insulin.” Yeah, that got old fast, for all of us involved.)

Anyway…back to the hospital….My husband or someone would try to come by once a day to give me a break. I would usually go down to the cafeteria and spend my time feeling guilty I wasn’t with J. I would silently sob in the corner and pick at my food.

One particular day I was in line for the food and already felt tears falling on my cheek. A friendly faced older lady put her hand on my shoulder. “What’s your story, honey?”

I told her how my second son had just been diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes and the new world we were being thrown in. I told her he was so sick and so skinny, it was hard to see him in such a state.

“Well at least you have two boys…since you won’t be having any more, you are very lucky to have them.”

Say what the huh?

That hit me like a ton of bricks.

Really? I’m not having any more? Was she right? I mean that was the last thing on my mind…but did this mean it was the end of the line? Two and no more?

She wasn’t the only one to make this comment. Many others made comments to the effect that I better not have more, as I didn’t want to pass this on to another child.

Pass it on? Was I really passing it on? For awhile the answer in my mind was yes. I felt like this had to be my fault. I felt like J was being punished just so that I could learn to be a better person. (Diagnosis and lack of sleep do a number on your swelly brain!)

But the passage of time is a funny thing…

Time changes perspectives.

Time heals wounds, even mental ones.

And one day, I knew…we needed to have another.


And one day, exactly two years later, God sent us another.


And then yeah, THEN we were done.

Two years after our last son came into our family…diabetes made another appearance.

And one year later…another appearance.

Do I regret having these two boys? Hell no.

Do I feel responsible for their diabetes. No, no I don’t.

We are like lottery winners; no one could have predicted our lot. NO ONE.

We were told we had a 3% chance of having a second child with diabetes.

That is a 97% chance that we wouldn’t. But who cares about percentages. You never know where you will fall, so they are useless. All that is important is I have two of the most precious souls in the universe here in my home. Yes, they have diabetes. Yes, I wish they didn’t have to endure diabetes…

But they are thriving.

And they are happy.

And they are part of a bigger picture.

I can’t imagine life without B and L. Would I have had them if I KNEW they were going to have Type 1?

I think they would have hoped…that regardless of their circumstances, I would have said yes.

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

TCOYD...my report!

Last Saturday I had the honor of attending, and participating as faculty at the TCOYD conference in Santa Rosa, California.

Amy Tenderich of Diabetes Mine asked to me to sit in a forum and discuss “living with diabetes online.”

Most of you know I was extremely ill the previous weeks, and it was nothing short of a miracle that I was in good enough health to attend. I was still coughing, (I AM still coughing,) but I could walk upright…so that in itself gave me the green light to get off my couch and go.

I brought my mother with me. She is an insulin dependent type 2. She was diagnosed about 5 years ago and we have some suspicion that she may be a LADA patient, rather than type 2. LADA stands for Latent Autoimmune Diabetes in Adults. Basically it is an adult that acquires type one, with an onset that is generally quite slow going. The beta cells are killed at a slower pace, so often those with LADA are diagnosed with Type 2. My mother has asked to be tested to see which diabetes she really has, but has been put off by her doctors. She’ll get the test eventually…but right now she is doing all she can to Take Control of HER Diabetes.

So this conference was a perfect fit for her!

We attended some sessions together. I would have to say that she gleaned much more information than I did. The conference seemed more applicable for the Type 2 community…although there were many workshops that offered help for both communities.

Some things I DID learn:

You get what you give. They showed examples of what they called, “The Extreme Diabetes Makeover.” They took a bunch of Type 2 and Type 1 Diabetics and gave them the whole gamut of support. The results in less than a year yielded A1C’s that were literally cut in half. It goes to show the right support team is invaluable when it comes to diabetes. If your endo isn’t actively trying to help you take control…if your endo or doctor is not empathetic to the cause…then it is time for a new endo.

They showed a map of the prevalence of diabetes 10 or 20 years ago. (The states with a higher than 3% diagnosis rate were colored red.) There were a few states colored red. Today the entire map is red. I knew that diabetes, both type 1 and 2 were on the rise…I wasn’t surprised at the statistics at all. But just looking at the map made it all more real. Not a fun feeling really.

In another workshop I learned that when a man gets angry, three parts of his brain light up. When a woman gets angry, SEVEN parts of her brain light up. Again…not too surprising. :) The workshop talked about our “caveman” emotions. That we all have an automatic-gut-reaction-emotions to EVERYTHING. We need to identify what the triggers are that make us angry and upset, and then we need to accept…and deal with that emotion head on.

The Happy Diabetic workshop was our favorite. He talked about his diabetes, his denial of it all and did a kick-butt cooking demonstration. We learned that if you have vegetable oil in your pantry…throw it away…and throw it away NOW. Cook only with Canola oil and olive oil. (I checked, that is what I have in my pantry...phew!)

Our conference was next. Participation was much smaller than anticipated as the main Doctor of the conference, Dr. Edelman, had his most popular workshop in the giant room the same time as ours. We were o.k. with the smaller audience. We hoped we could reach out more personally with the attendees. I don’t think I was prepared for the diversity of the audience though. There were many older type 2 adults who simply came to find out what to type on their computers to find a community that would understand them. There were parents of Type 1’s…there were adult type 1’s and there were people who simply wanted to know technically how to get their website out there.

We started out with each of us going up with our power points and giving a spiel about ourselves. I of course got all weepy talking about why I go online. I talked about the power of “same” and the relief to know there are others who 100% get it. Afterwards we opened it up to a question and answer forum and tried our best to satisfy all the answers in the audience.

All in all it was a success, and that is something! It was a good introduction for me in an advocating forum. I hope to have more opportunities to get out there and let people know they don’t have to be alone in all this anymore.

The vendor fair was pretty rockin’, although I think I missed out on some as I only walked through first thing in the morning. I had an opportunity to speak for a good five minutes with Billy Mills, the Olympic gold medalist. He is a very sweet man and it was a blast talking face to face, speaking so candidly with a legend. It was a really cool experience and I will remember it always.

Thank you TCOYD for welcoming me into your family. What you are doing is nothing short of amazing. Encouraging thousands of people to Take CONTROL of their Diabetes is an admirable cause indeed! Keep up the good work! I know many lives were changed for the better after attending the conference last week…my mother’s included!