There. I said it. I have been saying that a lot lately. When The Mr. wants to know what's wrong I can often sum it up by saying, "I hate diabetes."

I'm having trouble dealing lately. I know people want to help. I know that when someone says, "It's a way of life," that they're trying to help. I know that when someone suggests I take a walk that they have my best interests at heart.

So why does it just make me want to cry? Why does it make me want to put my head through a wall? Why does it make me want to ignore diabetes and curl up in a ball in a corner? Why can I accept help from people some times and not others?

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I've gone back and forth about whether to wear a medical ID bracelet. Part of me says I shouldn't bother because once a paramedic friend of mine told me one of the first things they do to a person who has passed out is to check their blood sugar. Part of me says I should wear one as an extra measure of caution.

I wore a medical ID bracelet throughout my third pregnancy. I don't think I ever took it off -- not in the shower, not for exercise, nothing. I don't remember why I stopped wearing it. Perhaps I lost it. In fact, now that I think about it, I think that's exactly what happened. I had removed the ugly silver chain and replaced it with strands of colorful beads to match whatever I was wearing. Well, the chains and clasps were cheap and ...

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I made a note on my calendar to call Dr. S today about the bloodwork I had done last week. His nurse told me it may be a week or two before I got results and that I could call any time to see if they were in.

I got impatient (go figure!) and called yesterday. After going through automated phone Hell, I got to the voice mail of the nurse. Her mailbox said feel free to leave a message, but be aware that it may take me 72 hours to get back to you. *sigh*

So I left a message fully expecting NOT to hear from her any time soon. I considered calling again today, but even though I'm impatient I'm not a pest. Well, maybe sometimes.

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I thought carefully about what I would wear today, and reconsidered several times. I applied my makeup with an eye toward the wow factor. I wasn't trying to show off, I just feel incredibly good today and wanted to reflect that outwardly.

Truthfully, I couldn't wait to get to my appointment with my endo. Truthfully, I've been waiting for this for some time. Truthfully, if I were still on Byetta I think I would have dreaded this day. Truthfully, with a solid month or so of excellent blood sugars thanks to Novolog and a fairly decent walking schedule, I was proud to report to my endo about how well I believe I'm doing. (READ MORE)

This is not the post I planned to write this morning.

Having a nearly one-hour commute (everyone flees the city in the summer, so traffic is much, much lighter) often gives me a lot of time to think. This morning I thought about what a crappy mood I had been in on Sunday and that it had carried over to this morning.

I tried to blame it on the kids: a four-day weekend trying to keep the kids entertained and not arguing and generally not getting on my nerves is exhausting.

I tried to blame it on AF: though she has left the building.

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Dear Diabetes Supply Bag,

It is with regret that I write to inform you that your services are no longer needed. Though your time with me was short, you have provided me with dependability, style and functionality that I will forever appreciate.

I remember when I found you. My family and I were leaving on our first airplane trip. For the sake of airline carryone rules, I needed something I could pile all my diabetes supplies and regular purse supplies in. I searched the purses and handbags area at my supercenter rather quickly. Some bags were too big, some were too small. Some were just plain ugly. Not only did I need something for that trip, but I needed the bag to be functional after the trip, as well. (READ MORE)