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May 25th, 2012
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Today's DBlog Week Prompt: Today let’s borrow a topic from a #dsma chat held last September.  The tweet asked “What is one thing you would tell someone that doesn’t have diabetes about living with diabetes?”.  Let’s do a little advocating and post what we wish people knew about diabetes.  Have more than one thing you wish people knew?  Go ahead and tell us everything.

 

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With Charlie's insatiable appetite and his unrelenting desire to eat everything he shouldn't, I feel like we are living the hunger games with him.

 

 

I took Charlie, Maeve and Maeve's friend to see Hunger Games.  It was my first time seeing it and their second. Charlie nudged me when the storm trooper-looking dude sat at a table and pricked the fingers of the potential participants of the "games."  "Dad, look," he whispered.  

 

 

I'd probably be the guy working my way through the crowd, asking, like I do when Charlie has his A1c checked, if we can also use the blood to check his sugar. Why waste an opportunity?

 

 

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*

 

The Mr (on the phone to me): Where did you leave those coupons?

 

Me: On the kitchen table. (Like I said I would.)

 

The Mr: OK I see them.

 

Me: You're not going now are you? (Holy Hell I'm going to freaking kill you if you say yes.)

 

The Mr.: Yeah.

 

Me: You're going to leave the kids home alone? (You freaking idiot.)

 

The Mr.: I'll only be gone 30 minutes. They've stayed home alone longer than that.

 

Me: The store is open until 9. You can go after dinner. Plus, you said you'd make dinner (and why do you have to be so freaking selfish?)

 

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Here it comes. The flood of tears that I couldn't hold back anymore. I could feel it way back in there but thought they would pass.

 

The Mr. calls and can hear the stress in my voice and I don't try to hide it.

 

"What's wrong," he wants to know.

 

"I have no idea," I say. "I guess it's hormones. I just feel like I'm going to cry and I have absolutely no tolerance for the kids acting like... kids. I just want it to be quiet and for everyone to follow directions the first time and to not have to tell anyone to STOP IT! or to SIT DOWN AND FINISH EATING. Basically I want to relinquish my Mom Duties for a while."

 

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This might be a little tough for me to write because, frankly, it was a little tough for me to hear. Especially coming from such a tough guy.

 

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I was so shocked when I read a comment on my post about finding the right doctor for me that all I could think about was the first line to the response I would write. I just couldn't get past the shock.

 

The commenter suggested that, in short, I should consider therapy to address my anger issues regarding diabetes. You know what, that person is right. I am angry that I have diabetes. Damn angry. And I should be angry. This disease has the potential to consume my life, affects my family and invades nearly every activity I do. I have a right to be angry.

 

But this is not the kind of anger that requires therapy. This is the kind of anger that requires action. Finding the right doctor for me – especially in a new city – takes time and knowledge. Knowledge of my body, my condition, my desire for quality healthcare.

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I really don't like going to the doctor. The endocrinologist to be specific. Every time I go, I just seem to leave disappointed. Sometimes it's less disappointment than others. Sometimes I'm just so angry at myself and at this disease. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I get mad at the doctor (because OF COURSE, it's HIS fault I'm diabetic!). But mostly, the doctor just makes me feel alone in what I feel.

 

Today I had an endo appointment (if you didn't already guess). My last A1c was 6.9, my lowest ever. I was absolutely thrilled at that number, yet the perfectionist in me still wanted lower. And I honestly tried for lower (less in the last month or so though). But life got in the way.

 

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Not long after I wrote this post about a news story that called bariatric surgery a "cure" for type 2 diabetes, a friend of mine emailed to ask about one of the comments. A reader suggested that there will never be a cure for diabetes because the disease is a money maker.
I explained to my friend that the multi-billion-dollar industry makes a profit in so many areas: test strips, meters, oral drugs, insulin, pumps, syringes, even accessories. What motivation is there, I asked her, for the world to come up with a cure and put all those good people out of work.
I may be naive and woefully open minded, but I am not a pessimist; I believe there are good doctors and researchers out there who are not motivated by money. (READ MORE)


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I'm writing two posts today because I am so incredibly frustrated I really need an outlet. I am about to start throwing things through the wall (which I really don't think my neighbors would appreciate). Particularly, I'm going to throw my stupid pump through the wall (I know they really won't appreciate that!). I have been having a lot of trouble with it since day one. The worst part is that I am having so much trouble with the company and getting help. (READ MORE)


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I get up every morning. I test my bloodsugar, give a morning dose of insulin. I decide where to place my pump in the outfits I'm considering. Some mornings, I wash away pump stickiness in the shower and insert a new canula. Some mornings, I treat a low bloodsugar, quaking and pale at the kitchen counter. All of this, while feeding the cat and getting ready for work. Drying my hair and putting on lip gloss. Trying to find the right shoes and grabbing a book to read at lunch. Diabetes comes with routines that often fit, tucked quietly, into the other routines my life holds. (READ MORE)


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Julia
JuliaJulia lives behind the Tofu Curtain, in the Pioneer Valley, in Western Massachusetts. It's a nice place. She likes it there. Her eldest daughter, Olivia, has type 1 diabetes. She's also 13. It's a real toss-up as to which is more difficult -- the diabetes or the teen-age drama. (Read More)
Lindsey Guerin
Lindsey GuerinLindsey is a typical, yet unique, Texas girl who loves shopping, movies and reading. She loves to travel and take risks. She dreams of diabetes cures, never-ending cheesecake and her own airplane. The rest you can discover in her blog! (Read More)
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