It's 8:30 p.m. Sunday, Mother's Day, and I have yet to check my sugar today.

It started this morning when No. 1, who is 8, ordered me to stay in bed. I knew what was coming, and even though I suspected a not-so-yummy breakfast in bed, I obliged. To his credit, I got oatmeal, which is my staple breakfast. But, I didn't get a fasting sugar. Heck, I didn't even brush my teeth first. I just did what I was told. I knew it would be the only time today that anyone pampered me.

You see, we're preparing our house to put on the market. Yes, we're definitely missing a few screws to try to sell in this market, but with a new job in a new city, we kind of have to.

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Imagine it's the end of the world.

There's a flu pandemic. Or The Plague. Or the sun is burning a hole in the atmosphere and we all have to be herded into caves. There's mass panic and people need medical treatment.

Imagine having to decide who is worth saving and who isn't. That was the task of an "influential group of physicians" who drew up a "grim" list of patients who simply wouldn't be treated, according to this story.

The idea is to try to make sure that scarce resources--including ventilators, medicine and doctors and nurses--are used in a uniform, objective way, task force members said.

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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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"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)

First, an apology: I left you hanging a month ago with part two of my diagnosis story and haven't written the rest of it. So, I'm sorry, and here's what I hope to be part three of four.

I went through nearly two trimesters of my third pregnancy managing my blood sugar with Lantus, good food choices and exercise. Sometime in late September 2005, my blood sugars started not responding well enough to what I was doing, so my educator added Novolog to the mix. I loved it.

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kek0a

The doorbell rang randomly today. My mom answered and received a package. Medtronic. I just received my supplies, so I wasn't sure what it could be.

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