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For a while there, I was really starting to think Charlie was going to use his super diabetes powers to keep the flu at bay. I was hoping for some irony. Maybe the kid with D would be the only one in the household left standing.
No such luck. Charlie is on day two of what has become known as "The Great Ass Whoopin' of 2008." Or the somber yet simple, "March Sadness." I estimate that we'll see the light at the end of the tunnel by sometime in July.
Now Charlie has even more numbers surrounding him. And this has me confused.
Susanne tells me he's 102 and I think, wow! Pretty good considering he has the flu. Unfortunately she's referring to his body temperature and not his blood sugar. "Oh, blood sugar? You don't want to know that," she says. (READ MORE)

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I absolutely love helping people understand the details of diabetes. I like to know that now there is one more person in the world who knows that carbs are more important than sugar, that it's often quite complicated, and that insulin is not a cure. Part of me wants to spread the wealth of knowledge. Part of me wants to have more join the diabetes "organization" (like the mafia).

 

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Charlie will play organized baseball for the first time tonight. He's super excited. It's also the first time he will have a coach other than me. I've coached Charlie's soccer team for the past few seasons.
This doesn't make me nervous though. It actually allows me to have my eyes on him a little closer now that I won't be dodging soccer balls launched at my head or wearing 40-pound children as slippers. But it does necessitate some fair warning to the coach regarding Charlie's diabetes. Not just for safety purposes. I like the coach and I don't want to put him in an embarrassing situation. (READ MORE)

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Just this morning …
Charlie says, "Dad, I think I'm low."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"OK, one sec."
Rip. Pop. Click.
"Nope. Not low."
"Aww. I wish I was low."
"What? No Charlie. Being low is very dangerous. Why do you want to be low?"
"Because I want to eat some juice."
"You mean drink juice?"
"Drink juice."
"Charlie, it's really, really dangerous."
"Could I die?" (READ MORE)

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"I totaled my truck”  

 

I looked at my friend in shock. He did not look hurt or anything but his lower lip quivered enough to tell me it was bad.  

 

 

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A coworker asked me if I knew of a cake mix that was sugar free. She was asked to bake a cake for a friend who has diabetes.

 

That began the carbohydrate lesson.

 

"The thing is, although something may say 'Sugar Free' or 'Reduced Sugar' it may still have carbs in it which is what effects blood sugar. Sugar is included in that number." I did my best to not get too technical.

 

"Well I bought this one to try but I thought I would check with you to see if you knew of a better one," she said.

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There's a Band Aid on my tummy. A small, flexible-fabric Band Aid.

 

Underneath is neosporin, which is covering up my last pump site. I've never used neosporin -- or a Band Aid -- after pulling a site.

 

That site had been itchy for about a day. I knew it was (over)due for a change, but I had so little insulin in my pump that I didn't want to do two "site changes" back to back.

 

I primed my pump this morning and was preparing to quick-sert the set when I glanced at my soon-to-be-old site. It looked like my skin had been sucked up into the set. I usually leave the old set in for several hours, but this one I quickly ripped out.

 

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Olivia told me the other day that she was nearly out of test strips. I dutifully called in the refill and went to pick them up today.

When I got to the pharmacy, I gave him Olivia's insurance card. O is on her father's soon-to-be-ex-wife's insurance.

I know, it's confusing, but I don't really want to get into all of that garbage on here. Suffice it to say, her dad's not really, uh, involved in Olivia's life. It's been a year and a half since he's seen her. He lives an hour away. Somehow, there's always something more important. It's beyond infuriating. But I digress.
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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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My parents are coming over for dinner tonight. I have a reputation, among my father anyway, of being a good cook. So whenever Dad comes over, I feel obligated to make something nice for him. The one requirement: It must be gluten-free.

In my summer quest to try new foods, I've discovered quinoa (pronounce keen-wa). It's a whole grain and complete protein. I wasn't quite sure what to do with it, so I did a google search, checked out some recipes and came up with my own toasted quinoa salad.
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