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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "scars":

I talked to Olivia again about going off the pump and she's adamant about wanting to do it.  We were changing her site because, once again, the site she'd had in got infected. She only keeps a site in for 2 days, but they often seem to get red and irritated. We use antiseptic wipes before inserting them - I don't know if she's just sensitive or if we're doing something wrong or what, but she's sick of it. I don't blame her; after looking at her stomach and arms, she's got a lot of ugly, raised white  bumps, especially on her belly. We rotate sites all the time and go pretty far out on to her sides, but the scars just don't seem to go away.

 

I don't know if there's anything that can be used to get rid of the scars or if she's stuck with them forever.  I just know they really bother her. 

 

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Diabetes is a very physical disease. It loves to leave behind marks to show it was there. The strange "tells," "war wounds," and "evidence" that this disease is wreaking havoc on my body both internally and externally.

 

The easiest sign of diabetes is the calluses on my fingertips. They've been my biggest complaint with this disease (physically at least) since I can remember. I hate the way they mar my fingers with their tiny spots and uneven edges. It never can be skin against skin, smooth and simple. When I run my hands over anything, I feel the tips of my fingers drop their tiny hints of this disease.

 

As if my fingertips weren't beaten enough, my body has all the signs of needles and insertions. I have bruises galore. Plus the tiny red spots from infusion sites and syringes. And every three months, there's the bruise of getting blood drawn on the crease of my arm.

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This morning, getting ready for work. I looked at the scattering of dots on my thighs from old pump sites. And then I wrote this...

 

We test, we write it down - we test, we store results - we test, we examine results - we test, we make decisions about what to do next.

 

 

We eat, we calculate - we eat, we guess - we eat, we dose - we eat, we hold our breath and hope we've done everything right.

 

We take our medication, we adjust our doses - we take our medication, we wonder if it's the very best medicine for us - we take our medication, we hope that it serves our body well - we take our medication, and wait for the next big advance.

 

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I'm sorry for pulling a vanishing act of late. Things have been quite hectic and I feel like I'm constantly playing catch up this week. Diabetes hasn't been on my radar even though I'm checking my blood sugar and doing my insulin. I'm just not making it my every thought and seeing where my averages are.

 

A lot is changing in my life. Today, I'm recovering from having laser resurfacing for my acne scars. Full face of Fraxel Dual Restore at the more intense level. It's been an interesting experience and I'm very impatient to get through recovery and see results.

 

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I don't dream so much anymore of a cure.  I suppose I feel that in cutting off the dream of a cure, I spare myself disappointment or heartache in the long run. 

 

But today is a Friday, and Fridays are for dreaming.  Letting go of stressors.  Play. 

 

So I let myself dream this morning for a few minutes in bed before I got up.  I sat in bed, knees bent, Curtis in bed beside me, snoring away.  I looked at my insulin pump site, which is already red and irritated after just one day (fantastic, that'll need to go sooner rather than later) and the litter of scars on from my knees to my hips from past sites.  I looked at my fingers, one at a time.  Dirty-looking callouses looking back at me.  

 

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Most of the time, diabetes is a heavy weight to carry.  It overwhelms the body, the soul, and the mind sometimes.  During sick times, the physical management is challenging.  During healthy times, the physical management is challenging.  During all times, the mental and emotional management is near impossible.

 

But even with the load of diabetes on my back, sometimes it smiles on me.  Sometimes, it shows me the kindness of others in a way I would never have experienced without it.  Sometimes, it brings the most light-filled, heartening, beautiful people into my world.  Sometimes, it shows me my own true grit, my own ability to overcome extraordinary challenges.  Diabetes opens doors that, without the weight of chronic illness, would stay closed.

 

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When you're writing about your diabetes life for a living, it can be hard to remember that there is a life outside of this disease. When you're daily racking your brain for blog topics, diabetes fundraising ideas, and how to market a diabetes network to the world, it's tough to keep track of yourself. But I've desperately been wanting to know myself more, better, wholly.

 

I've done just that in the past three years. Being out on my "own" here at college has made it much easier to find that true person that lies beneath all the health conditions. Sometimes I still get lost in the mix...like am I truly against large groups of new people or was my self-esteem just beaten down by the PCOS? But mostly, I've learned myself in more detail than I ever knew before.

 

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I've faced some hardships in my life. Things that hurt and hindered me, things that took me down on my knees, things that have left lasting impacts and repercussions. I'm sure you've faced hardships like this too. Diabetes can be one of them. It is for me.

 

Because of the timeline and the amount and my own personality in all these hardships, some of those impacts have left deep scars in places that I really don't want them to be. So a good portion of the past few years of my life has been an attempt to work through these issues and get back my life the way I want it.

 

Recently, I started reading a book regarding one of these major issues that have stuck with me in life. It's the kind of book that permeates to several areas, diabetes and health issues included. So as the author spoke today about how loss can affect spirituality, I thought to myself that I knew that.

 

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Olivia is starting to look like a pin cushion. Her stomach is a mass of red marks, scars and bumps. It's not pretty. She refuses to wear a bikini or half shirt because of how her stomach looks (not that this bothers me, mind you!).

The problem we're currently having is that she's got so much scar tissue built up that she's running out of real estate for her sites. She currently uses her arms, her stomach and her lower back.

I'm sure some of you will suggest thigh sites, but she has really bad luck with those. Thigh sites generally make her rollercoaster - she'll be in the 400s in the afternoon and by dinner, be in the 60s. It's bizarre. I've tracked it and she's not over-bolusing or over eating. I think it's an absorption thing. She's got meaty thighs (she can thank me for that one). I don't know if that makes a difference or not; regardless, thigh sites just don't do it.
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From the shore, I watch a life I used to know - the seas swirling rough and rapid.

 

I sit, wrapped in the embrace of a sun I thought I'd never see.

 

I am unencumbered by worry.  I reach my fingers to the sky, letting the light kiss their smooth tips.  

 

I think about the storm and how it came, sudden and swift.  

 

I think about the years of maddening calculations and missteps.  The whirlpools and the hurricanes.  The lashing wind and rain.  The dark days and endless nights.

 

I think about the fleet of ships that journeyed at my side.  

 

I think about those that were lost.

 

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