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November, 2012
I stopped over at Six Until Me and found all the windows boarded up and the rooms were littered with squatters. Tumbleweeds bounced across the yard. "Kerri who?" they said when I asked of her whereabouts.
Things sure have changed since Halle Berry cured diabetes five years ago. The online diabetes community has become a ghost town of inactive blogs and non-updated web sites. Though it's absolutely amazing to have a cure, the blogosphere frankly doesn't know what do with itself. Some have just vanished, never to be seen again. Some are still out there, staring vacuously at Google search screens, not knowing where to go, like long-time prisoners released back into society. Others have had a harder time moving on and have resurfaced under new management. (READ MORE)

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I promise you, I don't go looking for bloggable moments from Charlie. I don't follow him around the house like the Verizon Wireless guy, asking, "How do feel about diabetes now? How do you feel about diabetes now? How do you feel about diabetes now?"
Take last night, for instance. I was minding my own business as I dried him off after his shower and we walked into his room, when he hits me with ,
"Dad, do you ever wish you had diabetes?"
"Well ,," I said, stalling while thinking how best to respond.
"Well, sometimes I do because I don't want you to feel alone."
"Oh," Charlie said with a thin smile. "I thought you were going to say 'no.'"
"Why?" (READ MORE)

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SLED DOGS MAY HOLD KEY TO DIABETES – USA Today

(But until scientists can teach them to speak to humans, the key to diabetes remains a mystery)

 

BIRD STUDY AIDS DIABETES – Telegram Gazette

(What the flock?)

 

WHIP YOUR DIABETES INTO SHAPE – Readers Digest Canada

 

(Summer is right around the corner and your diabetes wants to look hot in its two-piece bikini!)

 

 

DIABETES, YOGA, DIET AND HALLE BERRY – WebWire

 

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"We can’t have him beeping all day in class," I said.

 

It’s like I’m Anakin Skywalker sending R2D2 to his first day of android school.

 

"Yeah," Maeve mumbled, her mouth full of Cheerios.

 

"It would be distracting to everyone in the class."

 

I fumbled with Charlie’s pump settings, trying to figure out how to turn off the beeping from the low reservoir. I never could figure it out, though I did get it to vibrate momentarily.

 

"Ooh," Charlie said.

 

"Do that again."

 

Did I mention there’s a kid with type 1 who just entered kindergarten at the school?

 

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Sometimes I'm glad we're not out in public when Olivia comes out with some of her statements. I do it too, for that matter.

She had a stomach bug for a couple of days and her blood sugars started creeping up higher and higher last night. Finally she said "Oh for heaven's sake. I'm just going to shoot up. Be right back." It didn't faze me in the slightest but I can only imagine the goggle-eyed stares she'd get if she said that at the mall or the grocery store.

When she was younger, highs would cause her to have massive temper tantrums. I can remember on many occasions muttering to myself "Girl, you'd better be high, behaving that way." More than once it got me the hairy eyeball from passersby.
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If by some miracle diabetes is cured, I shall name my next two children after the two cancer drugs that made it possible. We will adopt two Eastern European brothers and name them Gleevec and Sutent. I just hope everyone gets along.

 

Charlie: Mom! Gleevec called me Sugar Boy!

 

Susanne: Carey, can you deal with this? I'm running out to buy more cake.

 

Carey: Gleevec, stop teasing your brother. Besides, he's cured now. We don't call him Sugar Boy anymore.

 

Susanne: We never … oh, forget it. Charlie, do you want some pie too? I can ask them to sprinkle jelly beans on top. Or would you rather Skittles?

 

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When Charlie says, "I think I'm low," we drop everything and make a dash for the meter. He's right about 85 percent of the time.
It wasn't so long ago that Charlie was too young to articulate this. Those were difficult times. Thankfully he's at an age now where he can alert us and explain when his "tummy feels empty and dry," as he describes it.
But he's also at an age where he'll do whatever it takes to be absolved of the crime.
Charlie is the great manipulator. He'll likely become a very successful car salesman or a powerful mafia boss. He wears you down until you agree to his terms. He also has an answer for everything. Even the most heinous act begins with the word, "well ,"
In his cunning way, he has recently learned how he can work the diabetes angle to his advantage. (READ MORE)

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As if diabetes wasn’t in the back of my mind enough as it is, the music industry seems to be playing a little joke on me to keep it on my mind even more often. We all know the tools that keep us healthy are filled with wires, and electronics, and batteries, and that has been a stellar improvement on diabetes care over the decades. But with all this technological advancement comes the need for increased safety measures, including alarms that beep to proclaim an insulin pump error, a successful blood test, or a completed phase of setup. The joke becomes less funny when I am driving down the highway with some music going, focused on the road, when an identical tone comes from the stereo that sounds like my insulin pump.

 

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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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