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I knew I was getting close to the banquet room for the JDRF annual meeting when I spotted a used ACCU-CHEK test strip on the carpet like a breadcrumb in the forest.
I was reluctant to go; reluctant to make the commitment. As it is, there are not enough hours in the day.
Walking through the doors was sort of surreal. It was like a plumbers' convention. Only they weren't plumbers. I snaked my way around the room looking for a place to sit, taking in the throng of diabetes chatter as the people talked shop.
Snippets of conversations zipped into my ears and blended into others.
"So I says, honey, you got to get a freakin' pump!" coming from one table.
"You get ketones?" from another table.
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I hate today.
My annual eye exam is this afternoon and every time I have to have this done, it seems I get more freaked out about it. I have a “thing” about my eyes. Let me put it to you this way, the first time I got contact lenses it took me literally 1 hour to get one in! It's embarrassing to admit that but it is the truth.
The fear I have is two fold. The uncomfortable procedure itself and whatever the doctor will find.
I cannot stand those thick eye drops. It is like molasses. Thick sticky muck being dropped in my eyes. I hate it. And it stings. At least to me it stings and there is little worse then eyes that are stinging in my humble opinion.
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There's a time and place for every conversation. I know this sounds weird coming from the girl from the funeral family who routinely talks about all things death at the dinner table and who isn't squeamish about much. But seriously, there are some things I just don't want to focus on, say, during my annual well woman exam.
Maybe I was just set off a bit when E. gave me the diabetes look of pity when, in response to her asking how things were with my diabetes, I told her that I found out I am type 1 and not type 2. I think I zoned out right then as she began telling me her history with diabetes.
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This year’s JDRF annual conference has asked those involved with JDRF to compose a “Commitment to a Cure” piece. They will be using these commitment items to display on the Commitment Wall in hopes of increasing interest, passion and the volume of responses at the conference.
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"I was a real looker back then. Like Carole Lombard," Nana Kay said to me over the weekend, a month before her 95th birthday.
The Nana Kay annual summer tour made a stop at my place on Friday and my mother's house down at the Jersey shore. She was visiting from Florida.
She told us how she met my grandfather, Charlie.
She was 16. They met at a party in Brooklyn. Charlie always had a camera on him. He loved photography. He would snap pictures of her, figuring it would give him an excuse to see her again; to show her the photos he took of her. He was smoove like that.
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