I'm skipping the letter L - in favor of my very late Raise Your Voice post. Even later than I thought - because of technical difficulties... (Thank you, K) My voice still counts, I hope.

The countless days of senseless whirling
Numbers chugging, dancing in my head
Reminding me of their import

The unending barrage of needles and blood
And of damage and fear
Reminding me of my body's most drastic flaw

The every day of it

The every night of it

The demands

The requirements

The relentless, all-consuming weight of it
The wishing it was different - I was different
And the realization that you play the cards you're dealt

I watch, most days silent, as it destroys people I love.
This beast.
And I wonder how many healthful, strong days remain for me.

I look into eyes so like my own
Mirrors reflecting the days behind - the mistakes
And the days ahead? - For me?
(READ MORE)

Before you read any further, I want you to know that this is not a terribly uplifting post. And I won't fault you if you decide to stop reading now.

One of the worst parts of having diabetes, for me, is how vulnerable it makes me feel. In the past, I've expressed my fears related to this disease on this blog and my personal blog. I am not a person that lets fear deter me. I push on, I make my way in spite of the fact that I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the possibility of disaster that life presents.

But, you know, life with diabetes presents a whole other set of disastrous possibilities. (READ MORE)

I Test. Ring in at a respectable 106 mg/dl. I stand up from the table adorned with "Happy Birthday" balloons. Head to the buffet.

I stare at the spread of food before me. There is a vat of baked macaroni & cheese. There are containers of fatty meats (ham, beef, turkey with the skin still on). There are potatoes, stuffing, and other starchy veggies. And there are desserts. Lots of those. Cheesecake and ice cream cake and white cake, cookies and pastries, pie. I am a little overwhelmed at the size of the spread. Flowing out over three long tables.

My internal mouth is saying, "Fiesta!"

But my mind is saying, loudly, "Jailbait."

Mouth: "Oh, come on, look at it. You've got to take advantage. Have some salad. That'll keep it healthy." (READ MORE)

I wish.

I wish my pancreas worked properly. But the fact that it doesn't is not the first thing that comes to mind every morning. When I awaken, I am grateful, not sorrowful. Grateful for a good life, surrounded by people I love.

I wish that I hadn't met so many wonderful people BECAUSE we have diabetes. But I am so happy to know each of them. And they all have brought me great joy. There is really only one thing I would trade knowing them for (that fully functioning pancreas). And I would imagine that there is only one thing they would trade knowing me for. There is no fault in that.

I wish I didn't HAVE to wear an insulin pump. But I can't think of anything that makes my life easier and more healthful. And it is one of the gadgets that I truly couldn't get along without. (READ MORE)

Type 1 isn't known as an adult disease. Until a few years ago, I didn't know anyone who called my diabetes Type 1 Diabetes. It was Juvenile Diabetes, Childhood Onset Diabetes... You get the gist. And when I was a child, I never thought about diabetes as something adults had in spite of the fact that I knew several Type 1 diabetic adults during my youth.

Anyhow, today, I was thinking, there should be some rules for being an adult with Type 1. Perhaps you'll think of some to add to the list I've come up with.

H is for How to be an adult with Type 1.

1. Test even though you're busy. Log even though you're busy. Bolus even though you're busy. Are you sensing a theme? As an adult, rule #1 is pay attention - even though you've got a lot of other things going on. It's a challenge, but diabetes needs to be a priority. (READ MORE)

I may write more about this on my personal blog - do check it out if you haven't already.

I have been wanting for a couple of weeks to write a post about a play I had the pleasure of taking in with my blogger friends Kerri, Julia, and Shannon. So, rather than write about the letter H, I'm going to write about Some Things Are Private . The play is showing at Trinity Repertory Company in Providence, RI, where I have the pleasure of being employed.

Live theater is a fantastic medium. What other opportunity do people have, in this day and age, to sit together in a room and watch a moment, a day, a lifetime unfold before their very eyes? I am fortunate to work for a theater that also offers the audience the opportunity to stay after the show and discuss and reflect upon what they've seen. The discussions are always interesting, funny, and thought-provoking. If you've never been and would like to go, leave me a comment, I can make it happen. (READ MORE)