I think Mousie nailed it in her comment from my last post. The age of 6 really is shaping up to be a time of new understanding. And yes, Charlie is clearly dealing with diabetes on a new level.

These days he's showing signs of wanting more control. He now loads the test strip into the meter, though he's not ready to test himself yet. He's also started reading labels for total carbs. A tug of war over a bag of crackers usually ensues when I try to make sure he's right about the carbs before I enter it into the pump. He's getting frustrated.

Charlie: Can I eat now?

Me: (pulling) I just want to check the carbs!

Charlie: (pulling) I told you! 16 carbs!

Me: (pulling) I. Just. Want. To. See. The.

Me: Shit!

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mmmfruit

One of the things I hate most about diabetes is that I never get a day off. I always have blood sugars to check. I have to count every carb accurately. Or I have to face the consequences. Which is exactly what I did today.

After finishing my last final exam for the semester at 8:30am, I decided to celebrate. I bought donuts and kolaches for a little celebration breakfast with a friend. I hadn’t eaten donuts since before starting on the pump (they aren’t something I indulge in all that often), so I wasn’t sure how the day was going to turn out.

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When to tell?

I have accepted a new job. It's in a new city (half way across the country!!). It's with new people. New people who don't know that I have diabetes.

It was during my four-year tenure at my current job that I was diagnosed. I had no problem telling just about everyone in my very small office about diabetes. I already knew them and their personalities.

It's different now. I have a problem with going in to the boss on my first day and saying, "Hey, guess what..." I also have a problem with waiting three months until my benefits kick in, or even longer when someone sees me checking my sugar (or doesn't know what to do if I pass out) to say, "Oh, yeah, maybe I should have told you sooner."

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agent-rebate.com

On rare occasions, diabetes fades into the background like the hum of a distant freight train or barely audible elevator music. If I have nothing to write, that's likely a good thing. Last weekend was not one of those times.

On Friday night, Charlie muttered "damn, diabetes!" angrily after I put the kibosh on the candy push-pops being handed out at the baseball field.

On Saturday, in the shower, Charlie asked what all the little marks on his fingers were. He asked if the marks would go away. I weakly said "I think so."

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"So will your clothes hide your pump," Mom asked.

 
"I think so," I said. "I usually wear it on my waist band, but for this I'm probably going to put it in my pocket."

 
"Good, and if they see a bulge they'll likely think it's a cell phone," she said.

 
Truth is, I had actually considered disconnecting. But with the nerves I know I'll have, I don't want to risk the high or the low that will come with that stress. Even as proactive and look-at-me-and-my-pump that I can be, there's definitely a time and a place for it. And even though we shouldn't be judged on looks or accessories, I know that we are. I don't always want diabetes to be a topic of conversation, I don't want to be judged or be pitied because of diabetes. And I don't want to earn--or not earn--something based on this stinking disease. (READ MORE)

New Yorkled

I was recently asked to suggest some information for a diabetic in another country. I can’t say that I have ever done much research on the topic of diabetes in a foreign place. I’ve thought about health care and how difficult it must be for those that don’t have immediate access for the disease. Yet, I’ve never taken the time to truly research information and find the reality in the situation.

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