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May 25th, 2012
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The clock hits 2:58 a.m.; it’s very early and dark this Thursday morning. I ask myself, “What in the F am I doing?” I’m wondering around the apartment with no lights on, nothing, not even the smallest of lights is on. I’m contemplating a lot right now. I had one of those days where I felt very alone. It’s not even all diabetes related, although, actually as I think about it even more I realize it all probably comes back to that.
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Fifteen years. A decade and a half. Thousands of days. Millions of minutes. Over half my life.
It doesn't seem real that I've lived with diabetes for fifteen years. It doesn't seem fathomable that this is only the first fifteen years of many more. I can't imagine how the rest of my life will daily involve diabetes despite the daily involvement of the last fifteen years. I just can't picture more infusion sets, more doctors appointments, more worries. (READ MORE)


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Stay.

Don't move.

Don't change.

Do nothing different.

Retrace yesterday's steps. 

Put on the same jeans.

Exert the same amount of energy.

Count out exactly eight mini pancakes.

Pour 4 ounces of milk.

Skin at the infusion site: Stay taut and unblemished.

Liver: Do whatever it is you've been doing. It's working.

Weather: Don't change. Stay dreary and damp.

Moon: stay half-full and bright.

Tube: be crystal clear and free of air bubbles.

Nightmares: not today!

Arguments: be nonexistent.

Stress of any kind: stay away!

Growth hormones: It's hard to tell you to scram, but settle down, will ya?

Liver: I mean it. If you've got to tinkle, tinkle the same amount of glucose and at the same exact rate.

 

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There are some days when a person ought to just stay in bed. 

 

Under the covers.

 

Cuddled with the cat.

 

Warm and safe and happy and comfortable.

 

There are some days when staying in bed is the best possible option.  Of course, those days are often realized in hindsight.  When the proverbial ball is already rolling in the absolute wrong direction.

 

Today has been, without a doubt, one of those days.

 

I got up this morning feeling alright.  Fairly well-rested, actually, and not fighting - as I'm wont to do - the inevitable reality that another day has dawned and it can't be spent in the paradise of slumber.

 

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Sometimes I get in slumps with my diabetes. I just put things off and don't watch much. I guess you could say that I get kind of "spacey" about all things diabetes related.

 

The last few days I've been feeling this "spacey" feeling. I don't test like I should. I don't log anything. I can barely remember to bolus.

 

Today, I've checked my blood sugar three times. Once when I woke up. Once before lunch. And once a few hours ago because I was low. Good pattern, huh?

 

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When I inserted the first sensor on Saturday, I thought it might give me a little trouble. It'd been through a lot in the last months (traveling around in my "everyday" case and moving from fridge to backpack to suitcase multiple times). It looked old, it looked like it wouldn't work. But I gave it a shot anyway.

 

And my suspicions were confirmed. It gave me two error messages before showing me a steady level in the 50's when I was perfectly okay. Instead of messing with a crazy sensor and wondering about its accuracy for days, I changed it out. I had an entire new box of them anyway and I don't use them often enough to be upset on throwing one out.

 

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Having people over your house for Easter is stressful enough. Running around fetching a beer for someone or pouring a glass of wine or opening a jar of pickles or dancing to Viva Las Vegas on Wii, I kept seeing Charlie out of the corner of my eye with crackers in his mouth. Not a diabolical act for a normal 9 year old. But throw in diabetes and it's a potential mess.

 

"Charlie, how many have you had?"

 

He says four, maybe five. 

 

"SUSANNE," I tattle like a child, "HE'S JUST EATING AWAY!!!"

 

The juggling master takes the asparagus out of the oven, puts a lasagna into the oven, mixes olive oil into a large bowl of sliced potatoes, pours Ben a cup of apple juice and says,

 

"Just bolus for 20."

 

I bend down and press Charlie's buttons.

 

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Last week I called my OB's office.

 

"Hi. I'm a patient of Dr. I. I'll be 35 next week, haven't had a period in 57 days and I'm not pregnant," I told the triage nurse. "And the last few cycles have gotten progressively farther apart."

 

"Well," she said, "women can have signs of perimenupause as many as 10 years before they actually go into perimenopause or menopause."

 

Fantastic, I thought. Just what I needed to hear: You are officially getting old.

 

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Yes. I do believe I'm in a bit of a writers' rut. Not much to say. Maybe that's not such a bad thing since many of my blog posts are conceived out of the woefulness of it all. It is business as usual, I suppose. More good days than bad. This is good. Though this makes the bad days feel especially bad.

 

The dog days of winter (so to speak) are upon us and diabetes is just there, as always, buzzing around like a wasp in a closed car. Now hooked on Undercover Princes, the TLC channel continues to be a bright spot to fill the doldrums. Soon I suspect I'll grow addicted to an upcoming show about addiction.

 

Charlie's ice hockey has been without incident (knock on wood) in recent weeks. However, last Saturday, I spent a good 10 minutes at the front of the snack stand line shaking my head like a baseball catcher at every item of food Charlie requested; only to begrudgingly settle on the least of all evils set before me - a hotdog.

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So my kids started school on Monday. Yep, super duper extra early. We have a modified year round school district. So we get seven to eight weeks off in the summer and two weeks off in the fall, winter and spring. I’m not sure I like it. I like the shorter summers because my kids get bored even with lots of activities to keep them busy. But the two weeks in fall and spring can be torturous. I’d rather have, say, a four day weekend in the fall and a regular one-week spring break. Again, the kids are bored, and finding camps or classes for them is expensive. I’m lucky to have my parents in town and they watch the kids, but I have to find something to keep them busy or they’ll drive my parents nuts. Of course, this also means finding something for all three that doesn’t involve my mom running all over town all day.

 

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Michelle Kowalski
Michelle KowalskiMichelle Kowalski, a writer, editor and photography hobbiest living in Phoenix, was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in February 2005. In January 2008, as part of her quest to start on an insulin pump, Michelle learned that she actually has type 1 diabetes. (Read More)
George Simmons
George SimmonsGeorge Simmons is a father and husband living with type 1 diabetes. A self proclaimed "born again diabetic," George began blogging as a way to meet other people living with diabetes and learn more about managing his disease. (Read More)
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