It's the end of the week.

He said I'd know something by the end of the week.

I called Monday. I called today. I don't know anything yet.

I know that his territory covers three enormous states, but doesn't he know that he's dealing with the world's most impatient person?

I really thought that by calling on Monday he'd have called by now. But nothing.

I'll be a pest and call tomorrow, too. I know, so not likely to be productive, but I want to know what I'm dealing with.

A potential complication, though, is my decision not to be seen at Mayo anymore. You have to have a doctor sign off on the prescription, which makes sense. And with me technically not being seen by M2 anymore, she can't sign off on it. (READ MORE)

It seems like we're going to be without insurance for a couple of months.  The cost of going on now is astronomical but if we wait three months, the company starts to pick up half.  I have an application in for MassHealth for Olivia, but it's going to take a few weeks to kick in, provided they approve it.  Of course, in that time, we're going to need test strips again.  (I have some extra insulin, thanks to Heidi, over at the D-Log Cabin - thank you, Heidi!!)

I've been checking around and it seems that Wal-Mart carries something called Reli-On strips and meters.  Do any of you use these?  They are far less expensive than the One Touch Olivia currently uses, which will be a big help as far as costs go.  

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As I went through my normal pre-bed routine, I checked off the usual things. I set things in order for class tomorrow. I made sure my assignments were completed. I took my contacts out. I checked my blood sugar.

When the number 172 came up, I was kind of surprised. I'd had an issue earlier and ended up with a 309. I'd spiked after lunch because I misjudged how many carbs were in the real soda I had. Sometimes sodas can go without boluses and I'll be perfectly in range after. And sometimes, like today, my body decides to utilize every last gram of carbohydrate.

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If by some miracle diabetes is cured, I shall name my next two children after the two cancer drugs that made it possible. We will adopt two Eastern European brothers and name them Gleevec and Sutent. I just hope everyone gets along.

Charlie: Mom! Gleevec called me Sugar Boy!

Susanne: Carey, can you deal with this? I'm running out to buy more cake.

Carey: Gleevec, stop teasing your brother. Besides, he's cured now. We don't call him Sugar Boy anymore.

Susanne: We never … oh, forget it. Charlie, do you want some pie too? I can ask them to sprinkle jelly beans on top. Or would you rather Skittles?

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Nope, this post is not about Thanksgiving or the dawning of the Holiday Season.

It's about the calls I receive from my family that are diabetes -related.  Often, I don't hear much from them on this front.  But lately, it's been a flurry of calls...

First, about the insulin syringe recall. Frantic calls from both of my brothers, who are apparently aware of my insulin sensitivity (ie: "2.5 times your usual dose would probably KILL you") but not aware that I've been using an insulin pump...  

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By now I am sure most of you have heard about the “breakthrough” discovery made regarding a possible cure for type 1.

When I saw the report on NBC nightly news I was floored. I sat in my chair staring in front of the TV. My son said, “that is cool huh dad?”

I just looked at him and said, “I guess it is.”

His weird look was probably a mirror of the weird look I felt I had on my face. How was I supposed to feel about this? (READ MORE)