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CP: I'm here with lumberjack, one-time monopoly champion, brother-in-law extraordinaire and a downright handsome speciman of a man, Patrick Mauceri. Thanks for joining us today.
 

PM: Hey C-dog.  No problem. Thanks for having me.  Monopoly champ?

CP: Ignore me.
 

CP: Interesting place you chose to meet me at today. So I just put my coins in here and the little peephole opens up? Do people with diabetes frequent this sort of place often?

PM: Well it's our little speakeasy. Only instead of bootlegged whiskey, they serve expensive juice boxes and orange slices. Can I buy you a drink?

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At the end of every year I take some time to look back and kind of analyze the year’s past.

2008 was filled with lots of down times. Sure there were things to celebrate but big things, like losing my home, overshadowed my son’s high school band performance at Angel Stadium. I feel awful just thinking that something so material like a home could get in the way of such an exciting memory that my son will have forever.

It’s my fault.

Yes, losing my house was a major cause for my depression and with it, all of the things that went along with it. Having to find a place, move, and tell others the whole story. Trying to make a new place a new home after the one you had been in for over a decade was gone. All big stuff.

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Seeing the girl with diabetes at the Make-A-Wish picnic made we think. How does one measure who is worthy of a wish?  Kids are afflicted with all sorts of conditions, obviously some more serious than others.

Granting wishes - what an incredible idea and an amazing organization. I was talking to a father of girl who had tumors in her head.

“They’re non-cancerous,” he said.

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Last week, I spent several days in Mexico on vacation and on a business trip. With the extra carbs and the change in normal routine, my averages went from the 140's to the high 150's. I had one or two severe lows and a handful of minor lows. I also had one day where my pump site went sour and sent me soaring into the 300's for several hours.

Coming back from Mexico has been interesting on my blood sugars. I've had a few lows, of course. But at the same time, I've decided not to try so hard to keep my numbers down. I'm not completely blowing it, but I'm just not stressing myself out over highs and off numbers.

So Monday night, I decided to order a pizza while working on a research paper. It was nice to eat the pizza, do a fairly normal bolus, but not stress about what my blood sugar might be in the next 12 hours. I didn't even freak out when I saw consistent 200's on my meter screen.

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Quick! I need your help. Through work, I got the name of an account executive we deal with from the Red Bulls – the professional soccer team in New York. We're playing a bit of phone tag. He called me back and left a message asking me what exactly I had in mind as far as fundraising for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

The problem is I don't know what I have in mind.

What do I have in mind?

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I entered a contest recently held by my favorite professional sports team – the New Jersey Devils. Named the "Devils Night Out Sweepstakes," in 200 words or less, I was to write an essay stating why I deserve a "Devils Night Out."

The grand prize was free coffee for a year, dinner for four at a restaurant inside the arena, four lower-level tickets to the last game of the regular season, a VIP tour of the arena, a New Jersey Devils gift pack and an item autographed by the team.

I didn't win.

Here was my essay.

1995.

She couldn't stop staring at her new diamond ring; how it sparkled brilliantly under the Brendan Byrne Arena lights. We cheered for our beloved Devils, the excitement of our engagement still warm.

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Have you ever seen a pump-wearing kid with diabetes do "the worm" dance on a hard wood floor? Sounds a little like this: flop-clunk, flop-clunk, flop-clunk.

It's a sad scene.

If for nothing else, can we please find a cure for this stinkin' disease? So our children can perform a decent worm without breaking their pelvic bone? Please!

JST SRF

I saw two vanity plates the other day. The first one was ‘JST SRF.' So simple. So optimistic. So worry-free. I'm immediately reminded of my 23-year-old Justin Bieber-looking co-worker who can't get through a single sentence without saying either "no worries" or "it's all good."

Just found out your child has diabetes?

Hey, it's all good. No worries. Just surf!

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