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

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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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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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 should not have worn shorts to the gym.  Even though it's like a bazillion degrees in there and running is more comfortable wearing them.  I should not have.  In fact, there's a reason I don't.  Running shorts, even if they're comfortable, show off "all those scars..." 

 

My thighs are one of my favorite pump site spots.  They don't reject the canula - which often happens on my hips and belly.  They don't get it the way of my clothes as happens with my arms.  So I probably over use them - just a little bit.  I try, mind you, to move away from there here or there, but old habits are pretty hard to break.  Funny, there was a time when I absolutely hated putting in thigh sites.  Not so much anymore.

 

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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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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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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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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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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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Snapshots:

 

Fingertips that look dirty, but they're just scars.

 

Connect the dots patterns on my thighs.  Pump site marks.

 

The scoff when I pick up the cake.  And eat it too.

 

Big blue bruise on my arm from that insulin injection.  Ouch.

 

268 on the screen.  58 on the screen. 99 on the screen.  Two out of three ain't bad.

 

I told you I hate you.  My bloodsugar was low.  Guilt.

 

My back hurts.  Not kidney failure, yard work. 

 

Spot in my vision.  Nope, just something in my contact lense. 

 

Foot tingling.  It was under your butt, dummy.

 

Cure?  Nope, cinnamon and disappointment.  

 

Hope?  Always.

 

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