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Christmas means joy. Christmas means tales of sugar plums dancing in children's heads. Christmas means Christmas dresses.

This past holiday was my first pumping Christmas, which meant learning how to "graze" and square bolus at all the parties, how to watch for trends from "holiday stress" and how to buy a Christmas dress fit for a pump.

Typically, finding a dress is hard enough. I'll try on one hundred to find one. Some are too fancy, some are the wrong color, some are just ugh! But never has one been unfit for a pump. Until this Christmas.
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For a number of years, I was the only diabetic I knew. Diagnosed when I was a little kid, there wasn't an army of advocates knocking down the doors of my school. As far as I knew, the only meter in my elementary school was mine. In my high school, there were two meters: mine and the one belonging to a classmate's older sister. No one else I knew was taking a fingerstick before having the orange slices at soccer practice, or before tap dance lessons.
My first taste of a diabetes community came one summer at camp. Growing up in New England, I had access to one of the best diabetes camps in the country - Clara Barton Camp. I spent six summers at CBC, giggling with my fellow campers, singing my lungs out at the nightly campfire meetings, and making friends. (READ MORE)

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It happened when I was giving the baby a bath on Sunday evening. It was the first time in a week. It wasn't really a light bulb moment, just something that felt familiar. That oh yeah, I remember.
My four year old wanted to watch me, to "help" with the baby's bath. Everything she did made me want to scream-moving the step stool closer to the sink, talking jibber jabber to the baby, touching the water to make sure it wasn't too hot or cold. She wasn't being annoying, she wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, she just wanted to be involved. And all I could do was tell her to Stop! Stop! Just Stop It! I was thinking Just Leave Me Alone,I Want To Do This Myself,Alone,Get Away From Me! (READ MORE)

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If there's anything those of us with diabetes know, it's that we have to be flexible. Blood sugar levels and blood sugar maintenance equipment and medications take a lot of brain power and we are often at their mercy.

 

Which is why I'm up at 11 p.m. -- one solid hour after my bedtime -- writing this post. The house was actually quiet for once. The Mr. had gone to bed early, the kids were in bed, I had made lunches for tomorrow and done the dishes. I sat down to watch a little of the Olympics, enjoying the semi-silence; before I knew it it was 10:30 p.m.

 

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I'm not always looking for evidence of diabetes, but sometimes I find it grinning back at me from the most obscure places. A few weeks ago, I found a bit of diabetes in an unexpected place - an infusion set cover in the change compartment of my car. It looked oddly medicinal, peering out from the bright red casing, hidden alongside a random house key and assorted bits of change.

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I hate exercising. I should rephrase that. I hate typical exercise. You know what I mean. Stuff like lifting weights, stair steppers, treadmills, those scary machines, aerobics, jazzercise, and pretty much all the stuff you see at the typical "gym."
And that is the other part of it. Every gym in my neck of the woods feels like you can not enter until you are fit and trim. So yours truly who has a long way to go would feel very out of place until I was a total lean mean D machine.
Of course being a "born again diabetic" I know that exercise needs and should be a part of my daily routine. So how do I make the non-existent gym rat in my come out?
Simple, I find something that I actually like to do and run with that! (READ MORE)

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At the beginning of the month, I wrote about online dating. I couldn't decide how to approach my health conditions. Was I supposed to hold them back or just put everything out there from the beginning?

 

I decided to take a medium sized approach. The few that have progressed to getting my actual email address, I've told about my diabetes. It was easier to "admit" about my diabetes than hide it. After all, my blog, Diabetic Echoes, and so many other things in my life are because of that one diagnosis.

 

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It took us just short of a year, but we finally discovered the right time of day to change Charlie's infusion set.
From the start of our pump training, we were instructed to change his site in the mornings. Before bed was not recommended for fear of low blood sugars.
So, we did as told.
And for months, Charlie's blood sugars were extremely high for a good part of the morning and into the early afternoon on site change days.
Our doctors weren't sure what to make of it. We all theorized that it was the stress of the site change sending him out of the stratosphere. Seemed to be a good enough explanation. He did absolutely flip out with site changes. The hope was that he would eventually not stress so much with the site changes and the blood sugar levels would fall into place.
Never happened and never happened. (READ MORE)

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Last week I was attending a 3 day Leadership Training course at a facility outside of Las Vegas. All 30 of the attendees were strangers to one another and all from different industries from all over the country! I was very nervous about how I was going to do after finding out so many of these people were owners, vice presidents, and upper management for their companies. I was not sure how I would hold up around all these professionals!
We got our room assignments and I knew we would be staying in small dorm rooms. They were more like hotel rooms with 2 bunk beds in them. I was lucky enough to get a bottom bunk so my night time visits to the rest room would not wake up my bunk partner as much as jumping down and climbing back up would have. (READ MORE)

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Last week I was attending a 3 day Leadership Training course at a facility outside of Las Vegas. All 30 of the attendees were strangers to one another and all from different industries from all over the country! I was very nervous about how I was going to do after finding out so many of these people were owners, vice presidents, and upper management for their companies. I was not sure how I would hold up around all these professionals!
We got our room assignments and I knew we would be staying in small dorm rooms. They were more like hotel rooms with 2 bunk beds in them. I was lucky enough to get a bottom bunk so my night time visits to the rest room would not wake up my bunk partner as much as jumping down and climbing back up would have. (READ MORE)

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