Crunch time coming...

One more week. Then, it is time for the big trans-pacific move. I have been busy sorting through our things, deciding what goes with us, to friends, or goodwill, and what goes to trash. Wow, I have to wonder how two people can collect so much stuff in such a short time. We came here to the Island a short year and a half ago with nothing but ourselves and two suitcases each. Not to mention we live in an itty bitty 250 square foot studio apartment, and still managed to aquire what now seems like a vast amount of stuff. Every time I say"stuff" I picture George Carlin in my head lol. Oops, I digress

I am excited, but stressed, and my GL's reflect that. They are running a bit higher these past few days, even with the change from novolin n to lantus. Still, at least they are a more level high, and still under two hundred. I think I hate it most when they fluctuate and yo yo all over the place.

Right now, I am in the process of selling a number of things, which, requires me to not only be working, and packing, but to also keep my house clean for when people come over to look at things. Grr... on my best day I am not the most organized person. I try, but my computer is working fine, so, I have trouble finding time to keep my house in fifties house wife fashion.

Posting items on the craigslist can really be an exciting adventure! I get replies from all kinds of spammers, freaks and wackos! Oh, I know that isn't nice, but sadly, it is more than true. If I post something for $75, I will invariable get at least a few responses that say something like "I buy $60". What kind of negotiation is that? I am no stranger to flea markets and yard sales so I am all for haggling for a deal, but hey, "I buy $60" is, IMHO, a very lame attempt. Not to mention I've got 10 people willing to pay the $75, why would I ever take $60?

Then of course, I get those people who think that the scientists are wrong, and the world does not revolve around the sun, it in fact revolves around them. They seem to think I should re-arange my schedule, take a day off work, roll out the red carpet, and be available in the next ten minutes for them to come see whatever it is I am selling, and oh, by the way, will I take $60? Lol.

My most insurmountable task though has been one that my Fiance' just simply doesn't seem to recognize as being as much work as it has been. Both my fiance' and I are paper collectors. Mail, Drs reports, utility bills, paycheck stubs (we still have pay stubs from 2 years ago that we actually brought from the mainland to here. Really? Really.) You name it, we keep it. I'm not sure why though, who needs an electric bill from from almost two years ago? I had four drawers of papers to go through. Four BIG drawers. Took me hours. Of course Joe Joe came home, looked at the house, and promptly said "I thought you were going to pack today?" Insert Yosemite Sam style behavior here. I swear sometimes, all the "bra burning" in the sixties did was make us look better in our t-shirts while we women still do all the household things while holding down a job to boot!

He's a good man though, and I love him dearly. Sometimes, he does the sweetest things. We walked to Wally World last evening to buy suitcases. He was going to spend extra money to buy me a nice girly one but I settled for a sensible black one because it was cheaper. Along the way, for no particular reason, right there on the side of the street, he stopped and kissed me, right there in front of God and everyone. I felt like a teenager . It might sound funny, but it was a nice outing. We walked home too, carting our suitcases along behind us like vagabonds. People looked at us strangly but it was okie, we are kinda strange.

Only two more days left of work here on the Island. It will be so nice to have a bit of time off. Even better, my Fiance' will be done with work at the end of the week and we will have time off together. That will be really different for us. He works during the week, and has the weekends off, and I work all weekend, and have most of the week days off. As with a lot of couples it seems like the only time we get to spend together is at the end of a long day when one, or the other, is completely exausted.

I'm not felling well today, neither is my man. With our luck we will both be sick as dogs during our trip! Isn't that the way it always goes?

now, go listen to some good music!

The Wearin' o' the black...

Saint Patrick’s Day has come and gone, but for this proud to be Irish woman, from the "built like a brick outhouse clan", auburn hair, green eyes and all, there was no "Wearin' o' the Green". I actually spent the so called "holiday" like an Irish Goth, all dressed in black. A strange day indeed.

Everyone who knows me knows my heritage. I think that is a Boston thing. Recently, the woman who brings our pastries into the shop complained that she loves Boston but dang, everyone there is just so darned proud to be Irish. I turned to her, smiling, and answered "Of course we are!" She just rolled her eyes, laughed, and made some comment about "another one". My boss, who loves a good debate, and is like a poke in the eye with a sharp stick sometimes, called out "You’re not really Irish, you’re American". I quickly replied "If you ever say that again I will slap you around". My co-worker Michael thought this was great fun and joined in with a quick retort "Ah, hear that? She IS Irish" LOL, and yes, just so darned proud of it.

So, you are probably wondering by now why me, of all people, spent Saint Patrick’s Day wearing all black. It has to do with honoring my ancestors, making a political statement, and all that. For those not in the know, Saint Patrick was not some happy go lucky guy who drove the snakes out of Ireland. There were no actual snakes in Ireland. Instead, the word is used in a metaphorical sense, representing the Druids of Ireland, and the Druid and Pagan religions in general. Saint Patrick was indeed responsible for the converting of many of Ireland’s people to Christianity. Is that a good thing? Maybe yes for some, maybe no, for others. Often, at that time in history, the converting of others to Christianity came the total desecration of another religion, another way of life, and so it was, in Ireland. A lot of Ireland’s history, traditions, and customs were lost during Saint Patrick’s "Driving out the snakes".

I do not celebrate what Hitler did to the Jewish people. I do not celebrate what happened to the American Indians. And I do NOT celebrate what Saint Patrick did to the Irish.

On a lighter note, back to Jenny (the baker) and her comment about Boston. She's right, I grew up in the Boston area, and people there are proud to be Irish. Yes, including me. In my family there were blue collar workers, fisher men, cops (what? Irish cops in Boston?!? lol) and more. Growing up on the coast just outside of Boston, I have always been particularly fond of the fishermen. I can remember being little and going down to the docks, and watching the fishermen come in at night, as well as the scallop draggers, and lobstermen. I just knew when I was little that I would grow up to be a lobsterman! (I didn't, but more on that later). Even at that age I loved the sound of the men shucking scallops, and pitching fish. I could watch them for hours! Men in cable knit sweaters, rain gear and black boots as far as you could see. They would stand around smoking, swearing, and laughing at dirty jokes I was too young to understand. It was better than the summer fair!

Fishermen are a rough and tough lot. They work long and hard days, for not a lot of money. I think they do it because they love it. It is either in your blood, or it isn't, and you can't change either one. It is in my blood. I have lived on the ocean probably a full 95% of my life. I feel lost without it, claustrophobic under all the trees. I need to smell the sea, and feel the salty air. It sounds like a cheap cliché, yes? But it is SO true. I love the sea so much that although I did NOT grow up to be a lobsterman I did grow up to work on a fishing and scallop dragging boat. I cannot remember a day of not being excited to go to work. I remember clearly heading out from port on foggy mornings, the salt spray in my face, the sound of the gulls over head, and everywhere the wind, the beautiful, wonderful, never ending ocean wind! I was all grown up, and although not a lobsterman, my dreams had come true, and I was now one of those rough and tough, smoking, swearing, laughing, fishermen! Strange dream for a little girl, but it was mine, it had come true, and I was happy!

On a side note, it is considered bad luck to have a woman on a working boat unless she is the captains’ wife, and yes, I WAS the captains’ wife, but that, is a different story than this one. I am no longer the captains’ wife, and live literally thousands of miles from that place, and time, in my life. I am happier now than I was back then, but still some days I feel the calling to go back to ocean. Not the beautiful sunny beaches here in Hawaii, but back to the working harbors, back to cold mornings, bitter coffee and cigarettes, and a good laugh at great dirty joke at 4 am.

My fiancé who has never lived on the water until we lived here in Hawaii, would make a great fisherman, he just doesn't know it. He would look great in the aforementioned cable knit sweaters, rain gear, and boots. I see it in him, and love him all the more for it. It’s like a little piece of home, across an entire nation, and the great big sea.

Speaking of the Great Big Sea, go listen to some good music, Newfie style!

And now for something completely different...

Because I am a woman of many moods, and deep emotions...

Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe (1849)

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee; —
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.


She was a child and I was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love —
I and my Annabel Lee —
With a love that the wingéd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.


And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up, in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.


The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me;
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud, chilling
And killing my Annabel Lee.


But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we —
Of many far wiser than we —
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: —


For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride
In her sepulchre there by the sea —
In her tomb by the side of the sea.




Now, go listen to some good music!
Song sung by "Full Frontal Folk"

The wheels on the bus go round and round...

I sold my moped almost two weeks ago, actually, my fiance and I both sold our mopeds. We are using the money for a new apartment when we get moved back to the mainland. We really did not expect them to sell in the first 24 hours after we posted them on our local craigslist. They did though and I was suddenly faced with walking back and forth (2.7 miles each way) to work 4 times a week. I braved the long trek the first week, however, in this second week my arthritus (in my feet, my knees, my hips and my spine) has gotten the best of me. After repeatedly coming home feeling like I must have traveled to the center of the earth and back, my sense of self preservation kicked in and I have been riding the bus.

Wow, riding the bus is an experience all to itself! The first couple days I only rode it to work, not home. It wasn't bad, except the driver does NOT wait for you to sit down, he just takes off like a bat outta, well, you know, and throws you into your seat! I have since learned to hold on to anything available until I find a place to sit down :)

On Tuesday I took the bus home too. That was an eventful ride. The bus driver got all mad at the people on the bus and started yelling about how he works until midnight, and we could just sit on the side of the road for the rest of his shift, he didn't care! All I could think was "What!?! I'm gonna be stuck on the bus till midnight?". Seriously though, I found it very disconcerting to have some strange man (and he was strange) bellowing that he was in control of when/if we got off the bus!

Today wasn't all that much better. The driver was nice enough, or at least, not down right scary. But the problem with busses is not only the people that drive them sometimes, but that they run on a schedule. A schedule that doesn't always fit in nicely with mine. I had to get up at 3:30 am this morning to get to work on time! I dealt with that though, but it did make for a long day.  When I finally got out of work, late of course, I was strutting (okie, more like gimping) my way to the bus stop, enjoying a smoke, and what do I spy down the street? My bus coming! I was still half a block away, and across a very busy street! I ran down the sidewalk at a pace I havn't ran since middle school, almost getting hit by two cars running across aforementioned busy street, and yes, it was against the light (I'm SO rude), saying "No, no, no" to myself the whole way. I so, SO, so, did NOT want to wait for the number 9 bus to come around again. But, the luck of the Irish was with me, as I said before the driver was nice, saw me running, and waited for me! Thank the Gods!

I made it home, too late to have lunch with my sweetie, STILL feeling like I'd been to the center of the earth and back.

Now go listen to some good music!

A sad day for Japan...

I would like to express my heartfelt sympathy and concern for everyone in Japan, as well as the people world over who have loved ones in the area of the earthquake and tsunamis. This has been a tradgedy of true monumental proportions and will affect the lives of so many. Thanks to modern media, what once might have seemed like a far flung disaster, is now brought directly into our homes, live, in high definition, making the television footage absolutely heartbreaking, and at times, difficult to watch.

I don't have a whole lot to say today, I mean, really, what is there to say? The newspaper tells me at least 1,000 people are presumed dead, and the number is expected to continue climbing. Hundreds, if not thousands of homes have been destroyed, fires are raging, and officials are concerned about a radiation leak at a nuclear power plant. Again I ask, what do you say to that? It's not like you can pat someone on the back and say "There, there, it will be okay". The truth is, their lives will probably never be quite the same again.

So, because I am not close enough to hold somebodies hand, hug them, or hold them while they cry, I will do the only thing I can do. Pray.

No music today, I think a moment of silence would be more appropriate.

Feel free to use this image to show your support for Japan.

It's the end of the world as we know it...

On any given day of the week you can frequently find me browsing the forums at Diabetes Daily. I am a relatively active member, posting multiple times a day. I really enjoy the social interaction, as well as the emotional support the members give one another. Sure, there are the occasional debates that can get a bit heated, but all in all, it's great fun, and educational to boot. Some posts are very thought provoking (wow, that's really deep man!) and stay with me for a while once I've read them. Sometimes, it is my own replies to these posts that remain in my head for some time, and the more I think about them, the more I think about them.

One such post has been on my mind since yesterday. The thread I wrote it in was a bit sad in tone, and I heard within it, echoes of pain that the O.P. has carried inside her, for a long time. It got me thinking. Yes, I know, a LOT of things get me thinking, maybe thinking too much.

In the course of my reply, I stated "all children should be carefree, innocent, and unencumbered by chronic illness".

Later in the day I wondered to myself, why is "carefree" a word I seem to only associate with children? Why not me? Why can't I be carefree?

carefree - free of trouble and worry and care; "the carefree joys of childhood"; "carefree millionaires, untroubled financially"

Oh, there it is... right there in the dictionary, it IS pretty much for children only. Apparently, adults are not expected to be "carefree". Unless of course, you are filthy rich! We are burdened with the responsibility of children, family, careers, rent, credit card payments, utility bills, and the list just goes on and on, and never ends. If for some reason (such as childhood diabetes) you missed out on a "carefree" childhood, you really missed the boat, because, quite frankly, you're not likley to grow up to be "carefree".

innocent - Not experienced or worldly; naive. Not exposed to or familiar with something specified. Uncorrupted by evil, malice, or wrongdoing: an innocent child.

Oh, there it is again. Innocence is associated with childhood. As adults, we are fully aware of the dangers that the world, and life itself, can hold for us. We are worldly. We have experienced pain, corruption, broken hearts, casual lies, people who have used us, or worse even, abused us. Many of us have become jaded, and cynical, and are no longer anything near to innocent. I think though that most of us can still remember innocence and how it felt like to look at the world with wide eyed wonder, still believing that everything, and everyone in it was good. I remember being young and still thinking that words like "It will get better",  "The only way to go is up" and "Time heals all wounds", were the Gods honest truth! Now I know that despite how much I'd like to believe in those platitudes, they are not always true. But, I was blessed to be innocent once, I was happy, healthy, and loved. What if you wern't in your childhood though? At the risk of sounding rude, sucks to be you! Innocence is NOT something you will aquire as you age, so, once again, you really missed the boat!

unencumbered by chronic illness - 
unencumbered - not burdened with difficulties or responsibilities, free of encumbrance
chronic illness - a persistent and lasting medical condition

My original statement included that children should live unencumbered by chronic illness, and, in a perfect world they would. How sad that children are robbed of their carefree lives and innocence via chronic illness, very sad indeed. It's not like anyone can turn back the clock and regain those aspects of their lives, once they're gone, they're gone, as pointed out earlier, those ships have sailed!

Diabetes robs all involved with it of every last stitch of our "carefree" lives. We, as diabetics, must test and test and test. We have to eat on schedules, count our carbs,  and do complex insulin calculations. Our lives are painted by numbers. We are in NO WAY carefree.

Our innocence is long gone, we as diabetics know all too well the potentially possible, if not impending complications and damage that can/will eventually occur to our bodies. We do not blindly follow our doctors orders, but actively (and pro-actively) take part in our daily management and care.

We can no longer live our lives unencumbered, we must prepare for every minute of every day (and night), as well as every diabetic emergency that may occur. We keep all our diabetic accoutrements close at hand, on our night stands, in our purses and briefcases, in our cars, our work places, and just about everywhere we frequent. Oh yes, we diabetics are definitely encumbered!

Despite what seems on the outside to be so many losses, and so much work, I have found a vein of strength runs through the diabetic community. We may, as a whole, share a suffering of health problems, emotional setbacks, and yes, at times, even denial, but, more importantly, we freely share advice, emotional support, we celebrate each others joys and triumphs, have a deep appreciation for every day, and a special gratitude for life.

Thank you to Missitaly for inspiring this blog with your thought provoking thread post.

Now go listen to some good music!

Paradise Lost

Hawaii is beautiful, absolutely stunning. I love living here. However, as they say "all good things must come to an end", and so, our good time here on the Island is drawing to a close soon. We have lived here almost two years and have found that paradise is expensive! Our studio apartment itself costs $695 a month, for a measly 200 square feet! If that! Our electric bill is a stunning $150-200! Please, do NOT get me started about the price of groceries here. Being a diabetic requires at least attempting a healthy diet. It seems the better for you food is, the more it will cost.

After a lot of careful thought we have decided that we will be moving to Seattle WA. I have ALWAYS wanted to live in there! We plan on leaving Hawaii on the 31st of the month, which means, our first full day of our new, non-island life, will be April fools day! I wonder, is that good or bad?  I hate to fly, seriously, not just the normal "I don't like flying", but white knuckled, tears in my eyes, breaking your fingers I'm hanging on so tightly, CAN'T STAND TO FLY.  Wheeee..... it's going to be a fun trip. Last time I flew, I outright cried! LOL. Yes, it's pathetic I know, but true. On our last plane trip, my fiance thought it would be great to have fun with me. As we were landing in Denver, he looks out the window, points outside, and says to me "Wow, I think the tire just flew off !" Just then, the plane started bumping wildly, he gets this look of shock on his face and shouts "Oh DANG, I think it really did!" LOL. Not at the time of course, but now, lol, he really is a funny guy!

So, these last few days we have been busy sorting through things, deciding what we will ship, what we will sell, and what will get tossed, or donated. We sold our mopeds this weekend, and are excited to have gotten enough money to pay first and last months rent, as well as the security deposit  for a new apartment. Of course, that also means we have to walk to work now. Note to self: CHECK BLOOD SUGAR BEFORE WALKING HOME. It's a good thing I keep glucose tablets in my purse. I hit 54 on the way home on Saturday. I of course, didn't even realize it, Joe pointed out to me that it might be a good idea to test as we'd been walking 45 minutes or so, and I hadn't ate much. Lantus is great stuff, right up until you exercise and forget to eat.

Our sister in law is helping us with finding a new place, and a job for Joe. she comes from Edmonds Wa  and still has family and friends there. One of her friends has said we can stay at her place until we find one of our own, which is so awesome. At least we know we have a place to lay our heads the day we get there. I for one, will be exausted after the trip. I've been checking out plane tickets online and it is looking like it will be a LONG trip. It is almost 6 hours travel time from Hawaii to the mainland to begin with, then, unless I want to pay an arm and a leg I'm going to have to make two stops, and will be traveling to WA via  LA and Nevada!?! So, it's a total of almost ten hours plane time, not even counting check in time, security time, and any unforseen delays.

Last time I traveled, I was still very much in denial about my diabetes. I don't remember testing my GL even once, the whole trip! I didn't bring snacks, or stress about eating or drinking, or taking my insulin. I, parden the pun, just flew by the seat of my pants ;) This trip though, I plan on being more mature, and responsible. I will be bringing all the diabetic necessities, ie: needles, inuslin pens, glucose tabs, candy, trail mix, carbs and more. I am going to need to invest in one of those insulin cooling bags to put in my carry-on. I am bringing with me three months worth of insulin and do NOT want to risk ruining it by either keeping it in a checked bag, or not keeping it at the correct temperature. Even worse, OMG, what if they lost my bag!?! Traveling as a diabetic is kind of like traveling with a baby.

24 days. Yep, lots of work still to be done.

Now go listen to some good music!

1 potato... 2 potato...

Yesterday I talked about math. I'm going to do it again today too. I already advised you all that math is NOT my strong suit, and apparently, reading comprehension isn't either.

I decided last night at dinner time, that I would be bad, very very bad. I wanted sweet potatoes, and by jeesums, I was GOING to have them! (They just go so nicely with spicy italian sausage!) So, seeing as how I am trying to be "a good little diabetic", even when eating what I really prolly shouldn't, I did what most dutiful diabetics do, I turned to the side of the box for the nutritional facts. Okie, it clearly said there were 6 servings per container, and 26 carbs per serving. Being honest with myself I decided I would most likely eat two servings worth of the much desired sweet potatoes. Yeah, I know, and I repeat, bad, very very bad, but I was just in the MOOD for them! I used the handy insulin dose calculator I am so in love with, and determined I needed 3.5 units of humalog to cover the upcoming carb laden yumminess!

Dinner was DELICIOUS! We had sweet italian sausage, broccoli stir fried in garlic butter with cheese, and of course, sweet potatoes with apples. HEAVEN.

Fast forward two hours later. I am watching T.V, with my fiance and I comment to him: "Wow, those vicodins I took earlier are still kickin my butt, I feel seriously dopey. Who knew that feeling would last so long?" Seeing as how he is obviously so much smarter than me, he replies that I took my vicodin at 1:00 pm, and it is now 7:30, and points out that maybe I should check my blood sugar level. He's always right! I HATE that! Sure enough, my glucose level is 34!?! How does that happen!?! Did my trusty insulin calculator let me down?

Nope, here's what really happened:
On the side of the box, under nutrition facts, as I stated before, it CLEARLY says there are 6 servings per container. Now, on the FRONT of the box (which, I neglected to read until this morning), it also CLEARLY states that the box contains TWO pouches, 3 servings EACH, equalling 6 in the container. As I only made on pouch, I apparently ate only ONE serving, NOT the two that I bolused for.

And once again, I have proven that math is NOT my forte'.

So, before I tell you to "go listen to some good music" I want to share a little info about the artist. Israel Kamakawiwo'ole is one of my absolute all time favorite singers. His voice is so beautiful, and so full of emotion, he was a truly talented man! He was a Hawaiian local, what we here call Kamaʻāina, meaning "child of the land" , or in modern terms, a native Hawaiian. He passed away at the age of 38 due to obesity related complications. So very sad. The Hawaii State flag was flown at half staff on the day of his funeral, and he was the only non-political person to ever lay in state in our capital building. Ten thousand people went to his funural, and thousands were in attendence when his ashes were scattered in the ocean at Mākua Beach on June 12th, 1997. He was locally known as "Bruddah IZ" and the "Hawaiian Supahman". He was the definition of "beloved".

You may recognize his music from numerous movies, but, his most well known song off island is prolly "Somewhere over the Rainbow", featured in 50 first dates, which, by the way, was filmed at the Kualoa Ranch here on Oahu.

You can learn more about Iz here and here.

NOW go listen to some GREAT music!

Somewhere over the Rainbow

In this Life (My favorite song by Iz)

Country Road, Iz style!

Diabetic Rocket Science

I don't have a high school diploma. I have a G.E.D. The reason I have that instead of a diploma is because of math. When I attended high school (half a millenia ago it seems) you were required to pass algebra 1. Sadly, no matter how hard I tried, I just could not reconcile numbers AND letters. Each on their own can be a hard enough concept for me to conquer, but together, it was a completely insurmountable task. This being said, I'm not totally stupid when it comes to adding and subtracting. I can even tackle multiplication and division! Okie, I use my fingers to keep place sometimes, but still, I'm not fully unfortunate.

All semi-seriousness aside (I like to use that saying, it makes me feel semi-humorous ) I never realized how much math is included in maintaining good glucose control. Really, you need to be a rocket scientist! It seems I spend half my day counting. I count carbs, units, and carb to insulin ratios. That doesn't even include glucose level corrections. Whew! I found I do NOT have enough fingers for all that counting!

Finding myself nearing mental fatigue I finally decided there has got to be a better way, but, other than adding my toes to my daily repertoire, I couldn't imagine another method. So, I referred to my trusy friend Google. Being a helpful chap, he found me a much easier method lickity split like! I found some very cool and groovy applications.

The first one, unfortunately, was for an Android phone. Wow, there are diabetics out there who, after all the money spent on test strips, actually have some left for smart phones? Who knew! If you're one of those lucky people, here's the link.

The second one I found is a calculator like device. It is really pretty neat and I plan on buying one so I NEVER have to do math again, even when I'm out and about living the life I sometimes have outside of diabetes. Here's the link for that one.

The last one I found is online, and was EXACTLY what I was looking for! I felt like Goldilocks! It is perfect, I bow down to it's excellence. Picture me Wayne and Garth style, on my knees, saying "I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy". Yeah, I'm an idiot lol. But WOW will it make my life less complicated. So, with much ado, here's the link to the almighty insulin dose calculator!

Now go listen to some good music!

The honeymoon is over... I'd like a divorce now please!

If you wander around the forums on Diabetes Daily, you will find plenty of references to the diabetic "honeymoon" period. I'm not refering to that physical honeymoon, but rather, to an emotional honeymoon.

I'm guessing most people diagnosed with some kind of serious health issue go through emotional stages. For me, it went kind of like this:

Shock, wow, I am diabetic?!?
This was partly due to the fact the dr diagnosed me as a type 2, I was like, um, I am thin, eat well, and extremely active, how does this happen? I, like most people, thought type 2 diabetes was an illness of the over weight and under active. I now know this is NOT true.

Followed by fear, I am diabetic?!?
OMG! What happens now? How do I control this? What's going to happen to me? Am I going to go blind, lose my legs, end up on dialysis?!?

Then, came a grudging acknowledgement, okie, I am diabetic.
Yeah, whatever, I'll stick myself with this lancet, and shoot up my insulin, but I'm not happy about it, and I'm just doing it because I have to. No one educated me about diabetes, and I didn't educate myself, I only did the bare minimum to stay alive.

After that, I went through a denial phaze
I hate my insulin, it makes me gain weight, I'm not taking it anymore! Look, I havn't taken it for a month, and I feel fine, okie, well maybe not fine, but apparently, I can live without it! The drs were wrong! I'm not diabetic after all, and I can do just fine without help!

Oiy, THAT phaze almost killed me! More than once!

After my "near death experiences" I decided to accept that I am a type 1 diabetic.
Yes, somewhere along my diabetic roller coaster ride my diagnosis had been changed from type2 to type 1.

The next phaze I learned that I must embrace my diabetes.
I dicovered that in order to control my diabetes, I must make it my friend, and care for it. I need to give it lots of attention and time, make it an important part of my life. This, to me, is the emotional honeymoon.

Now, I am in the frustration stage!
I have accepted and embraced my diabetes, and still, I can't seem to get it under control. It is like a child with opositional defiant disorder ! The more time, effort, and thought I put into it, the more it seems to hate me. I give it insulin daily, two kinds even, I keep it well hydrated, feed it healthy food, and take it for daily walks. Still, it hates me, numbers up, numbers down, and numbers up again. Spoiled brat! It's like a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. Seriously! I can't see a thing without my glasses anymore!

So yes, the honeymoon is over. I want a divorce. Goodbye diabetes, you can take your insulin, your needles, your diabetic recipe books, the glucose meter, and even the strips that cost like eleventy billion dollars! Just pack up that crap and move along quietly please !

If only it were that easy. Maybe that is the hardest part of living with diabetes, it is never the same from day to day. It changes all the time, what worked once, may not work again. It seems like no matter how long I have it, I am always in some type of transition, and in a different phaze.

Now go listen to some good music!

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to...

Warning, there's a pity party coming soon, and it's mine, all mine, and you can't have it! My birthday is this week, and all I'm going to get is a nervous breakdown.

Seriously, not really. It will be my birthday this Friday, and I should be thankfull I am around to celebrate another, and I am, honestly. After putting myself, and my body, through some not-so-nice things, I should be dang glad I made another "trip around the sun".

It makes me wonder at what age do you begin to get that feeling? The gratitude for being alive another year. I am going to be 45, so, for me obviously, that's the age it happens.

I know a lot of younger people, and they seem to take it for granted that they will always be here, or at least, be here for a long time still coming. They are seemingly busy having all kinds of fun participating in potentially dangerous activities, with no sign of concern for thier safety or longevity.

Do I long to go back to the time when I myself was that way? I'd be lying if I said I never do. Who didn't enjoy that blissfull state of being, when you thought you still had your whole life ahead of you? I know I enjoyed the hell out of it! I had Fun, yep, with that capital F, Fun. It wasn't all that long ago either, just less than three years ago. The summer of 2008 I spent all my free time on the back of my beloved pony. Running full tilt most of the time. I rode all day, and half the night. I rode a buck and a spook with no fear, I rode through streams, and puddles so deep my feet were in the water. I ran down dirt roads at full gallop, laughing, having the time of my live, never dreaming there might be a day I may not feel well enough to do so anymore. Seems that day has come.

I have, as many of you know, struggled with an eating disorder, and have done so for my whole "diabetic life". The last two and a half years have been a constant struggle between health, and happiness, because for me anyway, the two do not walk hand in hand. The price for this body that I feel I "have to have" has included losing out on the chance to do so many things I love. It's due to my own stupidity of course, as well as my own vanity and selfishness. Apparently, somewhere in my head, I think it is important for me to look good while doing absolutley nothing. Let's face it, with a steady glucose level of 600 and more, and a constant state of dehydration, That's about all I feel like doing. Nothing, but I look darn good doing it in my size 2 jeans! That might actually be a humorous statement if it wern't so sadlywhat I believed to be true.


I don't know why I am so sad and cynical today. Maybe all my yo-yo-ing glucose numbers have banged my head off the ceiling one too many times. Or maybe I am still reeling from all my nightime lows. Who knows, all I know is I am so tired of my weight and my diabetes running my life. I have other plans, and they include having fun, not counting numbers, carbs, calories, and glucose readings. All these numbers are going to give me a nervous breakdown for my birthday.

Now go listen to some good music!

Teaching a new dog old tricks...

These are exciting times for a diabetic. Over the last few decades, modern medicine has made huge strides in the treatment of diabetes. We have all kinds of cool gadgets and machines that help us monitor and manage our disease, enabling us to live much longer, fuller lives.


We have a bizzilion different glucose meters available to us, including continuous monitoring, and meters that can read our blood ketone levels as well. Almost all meters these days hold a large number of results, and will give you your daily average over time, and even break it down into before and after meals, and more. Some are very advanced, like the Bayer Didget, targeted for kids. It hooks up to your Nintendo system, and your computer, for game playing. There is even a glucose meter/cell phone combo. Wow, talk about technology!


We have a wide variety of insulin these days, and multiple insulin delivery systems. There is the old standby, the vial and syringe method, as well as insulin pens, both refillable and disposable, and pumps of course! There are other methods on the horizon, including insulin patches, and inhalable insulin (it was briefly on the market from 2006- 2007, but withdrawn).


I think of the current diabetic times as the “pump era”. A wide variety of insulin pumps are available to us diabetics now, changing the lives of so many, and allowing for a much tighter glucose control than would have been previously possible.

So why, in these advanced diabetic times, are so many diabetics (myself included) failing when it comes to caring for themselves? Why do we seem to still struggle so hard to maintain good daily numbers and A1C’s in the normal range?


I look for the answer in the wisdom of our diabetics, people who have lived with diabetes for most of their lives, some, 40-50, and more, years. They are “old dogs” when it comes to this disease, and they, unlike us, have lived through “the worst of times” when it came to diabetes management.


These older diabetics were around before we had glucose meters. That amazes me. Can you even IMAGINE what that would be like? To NOT know what is going on inside your body? To have NO clue what your numbers are at any given time? I am seriously attached to my meter, it goes everywhere I go. The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is check my glucose level, before I even get out of bed. My meter is my best friend these days.


So, I wonder what these long term diabetics know that I do not. Even with all this technology I can’t keep my numbers in a healthy range. I think our older diabetics know a lot of “old tricks” that I have not yet learned, like listening to what your body is telling you, and to really get to know yourself, and how you feel, from hour to hour each day. Maybe this is the advantage that they have over me/us, they didn’t rely on a “machine” to tell them where they stood, and what to do, they relied on their own intuition.


I have a tendency to bumble through life, going “dee dee dee”, paying little attention to myself, or how I am feeling, and just randomly check my glucose levels, with no rhyme or reason. I have caught many highs and lows with this slapstick method, but I wonder, how many did I miss because I didn't/don't know my body well enough to recognize the early symptoms. Before the next time I check my level, I will stop, take a deep breath, and consciously FEEL my body. I will LISTEN to what it says to me, and how I really feel at that exact moment in time. Maybe my body will tell me more than my glucose meter tells, and maybe, because I am listening, I will remember it for future reference.

I am a “new dog” learning “old tricks” from our long term diabetics. Thank you for sharing your secrets of life with me.

Now go listen to some good music!

I will hug you and squeeze you, pet you and love you, and I will call you George.

I wasn't formally introduced to George until December, 2008. Even then, I can't say it was much of an introduction, or, that I was excited in any way to meet him. Quite frankly, I was not impressed at all, he ruined my Thanksgiving, and my Christmas that year, and really, every holiday since we've met.

Looking back, I remember clearly the day George came into my life. It was a beautiful fall day, the sun was shining and the smell of autumn leaves was in the air. It was mid day and I had stepped outside on my small front porch to smoke a cigarette. Now, keep in mind that so many people have told me smoking would eventually kill me, and the humor in this story is that seriously, it almost did, but not in the way anyone would think.

Now, to keep myself on track, I stepped outside to have a smoke, was chatting on the phone, and decided I would sit in my five year old, canvas folding chair that I kept on the porch. This chair had spent it's life sitting in the sun, the wind, and the rain for half a decade, and had lived in 3 different states. It had been around a WHILE. Apparently, my chair was "old" in chair years, and my 140 lb rear end proved to be too much for this "furniture senior citizen". The seat ripped, and I suddenly found myself with my butt just about on the ground, and my toes, in my face. I'm sure all this would be humorous enough, but it wasn't the end of the excitement. My chair was, it seems, precariously perched too close to the edge of the porch. Sadly, the porch had NO RAILING. Do you see where this is going? Or rather, where I was going? You guessed it, as I struggled to free myself from the accursed chair, I accidently flipped myself right over the edge of the porch. Ass over teakettle as they say. I'm sure it was quite a sight! My cell phone flew from one hand like it had suddenly learned to fly, and my cigarette flew from the other, and I, I just flew, chair and all!

Seriously comical, yes? Even I agree, I would have laughed so hard I might have peed myself had it been someone else! I know that doesn't make me nice, but it does make me honest Seriously though, even I laughed, I mean, I thought things like that only happened on Americas Funniest Vidios.

What does this have to do with George? Well, this is where George and I first met, although, I didn't realize it at the time. After I extricated myself from the aforementioned chair, with the help of my fiance and sister in law, who, unfortunately for me, had witnessed my perfectly executed back flip off the front porch (they DID laugh till the just about wet themselves), I realized that my left side hurt. Not a lot, just a little, or maybe in between a lot, and a little, and it hurt when i breathed in. Being a tough old cowgirl, who has survived multiple internal injuries in her life, I just sucked it up, and made Pauly Shore inspired jokes, think, Encino Man "you could hurt somebodies pancreas like that!".
Seriously though, you can, I can, I did.

For the next six weeks following that seemingly mild accident, I was increasinly plagued by health problems. I, who had always been so active, even hyper if you will, suddenly compained of complete and utter exaustion. I remember telling my fiance that I just felt so tired, tired to the point that I felt I might pass out. I slept every minute I wasn't working. I developed muscle cramps in my legs. They kept me up at night, and I felt even more tired than before. Was that even possible? I also had a yeast infection. Or at least, I thought it was a yeast infection. I hadn't had one since I couldn't remember when. I tried every remedy there was, including yogurt ! I should have bought stock in that stuff! Nothing worked.

I also developed severe abdominal pain. It came and went, and I couldn't seem to pinpoint the cause, it had no rhyme or reason I could determine.

I began getting food cravings. I ate chocoalte like there was a planned shortage coming up and I had to get it while I still could. I was constantly thirsty, I was hungry all the time, I ate burgers, and fries, and every starchy carb I could get my hands on. I lost weight. I ate more, I lost more weight. And I peed. I peed ALL the time. I peed so much it hurt to pee. I felt like I was personally a never ending source of pee.

My fiance was the one who called it, he told me he thought I was diabetic. I told him he was crazy. He told me to go to the Drs. So, just before thanksgiving, I did go. We didn't care for the doctor much, she was one of those pretentious, she knows everything doctors, who didn't put much stock in anything we said. My fiance told her he thought I was diabetic, she told him he wasn't a dr. I told her I felt like crap and just wanted to feel better. She gave me a script for gardnerella. Apparently that's why the yeast remedies didn't work, it wasn't yeast. She never even checked my blood sugar levels despite our suspicions that it might be diabetes. I can "almost" understand. I really wasn't a likely candidate for either type 1 or type 2 diabetes. I was 42, I was in great shape, not an ounce over weight, and extremely active. I worked hard, played hard, and if I had time left, I played even harder.

I got the call a few days later, the day before Thanksgiving. There was sugar in my urine. I needed to be careful what I ate over the holiday weekend, and come see her on Monday. I was to stop at the lab on my way in to have a fasting BS done, as well as an A1C. My fasting level was 235, and my A1C was 7.2 That was my formal introduction to George. He's been muckin' up my life ever since.

So, why the quote "I will hug you and squeeze you, pet you and love you, and I will call you George."? First, I apparently watched too much Bugs bunny as a child, and second, well, because it is MY diabetes. Not my neighbors, or my friends, but MINE, and if I don't learn to take care of it, ie: hug it and love it, it will be the death of me.

So, a belated welcome to my life George. You are like a petulant child , demanding attention, gadgets, and expensive meds. You control almost every aspect of my daily ruitine. I don't like you, don't want you, and I personally think you suck.
But, in my own best interest, I will hug you and squeeze you, and pet you and love you.

Now go listen to some good music!

My numbers hung low, and they swung to and fro...

I felt all tied up in a knot, I felt all tied up in a bow...

All hilarity aside, my numbers WERE really low last night! I checked before bed last night, was at 87, so, I had some crackers, and some popcorn and figured that would hold me through the night. I woke up at midnight, at 53, so I had some glucose tablets, and my fiance, bless his heart, made me two slices of garlic bread. I would have thought THAT would have held mill until the A.M, but NO, I was up again at 3:30, lying on my back, tired, groggy, and slightly disoriented from yet ANOTHER low, once again eating glucose tablets, complaining I was still over full from earlier, and my tummy hurt. Woke up feeling like I'd been run over twice, but with a BS of 148. Thank the Gods, sometimes it's a wonder the cure doesn't kill us!

Despite the rough night I did indeed make it to the free clinic, which, cost me $105.00 dollars lol. Apparently, the free clinic isn't free anymore. Due to funding cuts they now charge a sliding fee scale. My co-payment ended up being $25.00. Do NOT get me wrong though, I am in NO way complaining! I could not believe all that my puny $25 dollar contribution bought me ) It covered my visit with the doctor, yes, a REAL doctor that specializes in diabetes control. It also covered my blood tests, and my urine test. If I didn't think that was enough for my money, it also covered my prescriptions, which were a bottle of 80 Cozaar pills, two vials of Novalin N, and, get this, 3 Humalog quick pens, a months worth! I was soooooo excited! So much easier than carting around needles and a vial, wow, I feel like I'm living the high life! An insulin pen!

Now, just because the place was oh-so-groovy, they also supplied me with regular needles, as well as needles for my pen, and alchohol swabs. And last, but not least, glucose tablets in case I enjoy my new pen too much lol. All for $25 !?!

Wow, I love the not so free, free clinic.

Oh yeah, I forgot, they also gave me a new glucose meter, a Bayer Contour. Pretty color too I DID have to actually pay for my strips, however, once again, I am not complaining, they cost me $80 for 200. A pretty nice deal if you ask me. I am all set for at least a month now for the grand total of $105 dollars.

Oh, and they measured and weighed me. I have gained TWELVE pounds in a week! OMG how does that HAPPEN?!?
Okie, I realize that I was drastically dehydrated last week, and maybe 5-6 pounds of that weight is water gain, but gr, that still leaves 5 pounds of actual weight gain. I just about cried on the spot! I did exclaim, outloud even, "I gained weight? OMG, I'm getting FAT". They just looked at me strangely and said no, I'm not fat, not at all. I wondered with my inside voice how they could NOT see that I steadily expanding, right before thier eyes, kind of like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka! I worried they would have to roll me out of thier office, like a big yoga ball, by the time it was all said and done. Tommorow is payday, and I WILL be buying slimfast!

One wierd note, I'm growing. Not only out, but UP. I'm getting taller. Strange thing that. I have actually grown 2 inches since my early twenties. I have never heard of that before. I have steadily gained aprox 1/2 inch every five years for the last 20 years. No one else I know has done that. I thought we shrunk as we aged? I am now 5'4 and 1/2. Good new is it changes my BMI ratio! Sweet stuff!

Lastly, they changed my insulin from Novalin R to Humalog. Hopefully it won't stack up and cause a low like taking my Novalin R seems to do. We shall see

Now, go enjoy some good music!

Caffeine, Nicotine and Peanut M&M's !

Sometimes. not very often, but once in a VERY blue moon, having diabetes actually rocks! Like when I wake up with a BS level of 47 and get to eat candy for breakfast! Guilt free even, I mean, I needed the sugar, and, I could claim the peanuts were for the protein Right on!

I am hoping the whole candy for breakfast thing is a harbinger of good things to come today. I could use a good day! After three trips to the ER in just under a week, I am quite frankly, tired of being poked, prodded, and stabbed with sharp objects.

Despite waking up to a low today I actually feel better I think. Some of the swelling in my abdomen has go down, and I don't feel so bloated and uncomfortable. We shall see if going to work helps, or makes it worse. I am in a good mood, and will hope for the best!

I am going to the free diabetes clinic tommorow, I only have few test strips left and have been testing almost every couple hours the last week and will continue to need to do so for a bit untill I get my numbers under control. They are still wildly fluctuating!

Thursday I will buy some slim fast optima, I'm putting on weight and you KNOW that doesn't make me happy!

Oh, and on a lighter note, the nurse at the hospital last night thought my fiance was my son lol She was commisserating with him about how her dad doesn't take his insulin properly either, so she knows how he feels. He IS younger than me, but I like to think I don't look like his mother! Must be time to dye my hair again

Now go enjoy some good music!