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Marvin picked me up from the airport on Wednesday evening. I'd just landed from Mexico after a nice vacation with my mom. I was excited to see him for the first time in almost a week.

 

Traffic was pretty nasty on the way back home and I hadn't eaten since breakfast. We stopped at Olive Garden for dinner. I had two breadsticks, water, a bowl of soup, and the fish and vegetables off my plate (the pasta didn't taste right to me). I did insulin once we got home.

 

We chatted for awhile. I unpacked some of my bag. It was great to be back in each other's company. But after awhile, I wasn't myself. I didn't feel quite right and we both were noticing symptoms. I seemed low, but I was dying of thirst and I'd just had dinner.

 

My words weren't coming out right. I couldn't put my thoughts together in any logical form. I was making strange comments. I was so thirsty and my stomach was feeling off.

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My girlfriend and I just finished watching a program on TV called "Rock of Love". The star of the show is Bret Michaels, a type 1 diabetic of many years and former lead singer of the rock and roll band, "Poison". The show is all about Bret attempting to find his "rock of love" and tonight's episode was the season finale. (READ MORE)

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On Sunday, my friend Manny retweeted the Facebook status of someone who supports GLBT National Coming Out Day, which was yesterday, October 11. Many of us here understand "coming out" of a different closet -- the one which stores our diabetes supplies -- and admitting our pancreatically-challenged status to the world. For some in our community, it has had profound effects relating to loss of a job, inability to get a new job, loss of health insurance, and (obviously) increased healthcare costs. Some people with diabetes have admitted that their decisions to marry, whom to marry, and/or when to marry have been directly affected by their partners'/spouses' insurance status.

 

Most of our gay and lesbian colleagues with diabetes do not have that option.

 

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I have officially started my new job and I am excited about the potential that lies ahead. For a while now I have been chasing after the opportunity to work for this company and I'm at a point where I feel comfortable sharing more about it. While I am employed full time with my new job I will also continue to do some personal training and be a blogger for dlife. So anyway, enough of the dancing around,I am now a full-time employee of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF) and I am really happy about it.
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When I was little, I imagined a perfect life. I picked careers, pretended to make life-changing decisions and pictured my future. Nothing was affected by realistic needs and the facts of my life. I could be anything and never worry about discrimination in the workplace. I could live anywhere and not stress over medical access or insurance. My mind was limitless.
Now I make these life-changing decisions for real: I pick future careers, places to live and potential spouses. Now I have limits. My decisions factor in my diabetes and my future with diabetes. I look at things like job requirements, insurance benefits and personal reactions to my diabetes. Everything is affected by it. (READ MORE)

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Got home from work, nuked my blackened pork chops and sat down at the table beside Susanne.
"So there's this company in England that has created cell clusters similar to those the body uses to control blood sugar," I tell her before lunging into my pork.
She sips her water and nods.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Pretty cool. Also, in another study in mice, it seems adult blood could be a richer source of insulin-creating stem cells than fertilized eggs," I continue.
"Uh huh."
"Yep. Hey, I had another idea for our fundraiser , "
That's when she stops me.
"Can we not talk about diabetes anymore tonight?"
Susanne is knee-deep in the trenches every day; desperately pulling down high sugars like helium-filled balloons that refuse to stay grounded. She spends other days saving Charlie from catastrophic lows. Saving our family. Making very difficult decisions. Taking blood from him in the wee hours of the night like a vampire. Getting her hands dirty. (READ MORE)

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Sometimes I really want my friends to know about my diabetes. Other times, I really hate that they know anything about it at all.
My mom always told me to be open about being diabetic so that my friends would know how to treat lows and what to do in case of emergencies. She's right (why are mothers always right?!?). My friends need to know where my glucagon is in my house. They need to know the symptoms of low blood sugars. My friends need to be prepared for the emergency situations that come about when you're diabetic. (READ MORE)

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Today's dblog week post is supposed to center around 10 things I hate about diabetes.  I've decided to offer 10 things - and then some counterpoints. 

 

To me, it's pointless to list all the things I hate, without also thinking about the things that diabetes gives me. 

 

Here goes...

 

1) Point:  I hate that diabetes creates fear.  Some days, I worry about complications.  Some days, I worry about how diabetes might effect my performance in relationships, at work, in life.  I hate that I worry over food and insulin. 

 

Counterpoint: Without diabetes to worry about, I probably wouldn't eat nearly as well as I do.  I would be a cupcake glutton instead of a lover of greens and fresh food.  Of this I'm almost certain.  I just with diabetes didn't use fear to keep me on the right track.

 

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Not many people know that I've been seeing a therapist off and on since my sophomore year of college. A few of my close friends do, but I've never really expanded on why I see one or what goes on. It's something that I'm not really opposed to discuss, it just usually doesn't receive feedback the way that I want it to. So I keep it to myself unless it comes up.

 

Back in 2008, I started seeing a counselor to help me through some family issues that I was having. My health was the furthest topic from my mind. But when I look back, a major portion of those two things were combined. I've stopped therapy twice. Once because I didn't like the therapist and the second time because I just wasn't feeling the right kind of energy.

 

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The problem with living with diabetes 24/7 is that you forget the details of the disease. It becomes like breathing or eating. You only remember the major moments...the great food you enjoyed or the time you got pulled under by a wave and struggled for the surface and air.

 

And that's exactly how diabetes is for me. After sixteen plus years of this disease, I can't remember the finger pricks or the insulin shots or any of the in between. It just zooms past my memory because I don't find a need to remember these minute issues (and my brain would constantly be on overload if I tried to remember 6+ finger pricks a day for the past sixteen years).

 

But today, I'm finding the need to remember these issues. Since I'm back on MDI's for the time being, I've been submerged into the life of insulin injections and many more finger checks. The ups and downs of diabetes are now important. The details are important.

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