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In the beginning, there is orange and black foil. That foil is joined by yellow and red, with the black fading away. In what seems like an instant, the yellow and orange are things of the past and the red takes hold alongside glittering green and silver. All of these beautifully colored foils, they signify the enemy. They are the harbingers of what is, quite possibly, the most difficult time of year for me; the dreaded days between Halloween and Christmas.
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I don't normally make New Year's resolutions, finding them to be just another way to make myself feel guilty about things. And I can do that well enough without adding a list to the mix.
But this year, I have resolved to get more on top of tracking Olivia's blood sugars. I tend to slip about it. I'm great for a week or two and then I let it slide. I forget to ask for her meter for a couple of days and then I think "Oh, well, I'll start over on Monday." But I don't. I forget. (do you sense a theme here?)
This forgetfulness thing is kind of new with me. I'm fairly sure it's because I don't get enough sleep. My youngest daughter - 17 months old - still isn't sleeping thru the night and I'm up 2 or 3 times with her, which plays havoc with my sleep patterns. It can't possibly be because I'm getting old. *ahem*
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I've been bragging for a few months now that Mom and Dad are flying my family, my brother's family and my single brother to
Catalina Island, Calif., in June to celebrate Mom's 60th birthday (which is in August). Having spent quite a bit of time at the beach as a youngster, I simply can't wait to introduce my children to the ocean.
Although the trip isn't until the first week of June, I've already done some preparing. I'm making mental lists of supplies I'll need for the kids, noting which suitcases to take, realizing I need to drop a few pounds, and even (gasp!) deciding to buy a new swim suit since it's been years since I had a new one. (I think I may need to be heavily sedated or severely drunk for that dressing room session!)
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I don't find it common place when I get excited about diabetes, but yesterday, oh boy. I had my first appointment with a new P.A. and I think I gave him a hand cramp!
This visit marked my first day with a new bout of medical pros. I signed up with a new primary doctor, new endocrinologist, new P.A., and even new crabby dr.'s office receptionists that somehow came with the package. (They are another story though).
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Olivia left for camp on Sunday. This was the first time in six years that I didn't bring her myself. I was at a blogger gathering in Niagara Falls, thoroughly enjoying myself, albeit a bit guiltily. I talked to her several times on the phone over the weekend and she seemed fine with me not going. "Well, I won't have to watch you cry this year," she said. Rotten child. (She's right. I do cry, every year. I'm a sap.)
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Ever since I was little, my mom has always told me that there was a reason behind my diabetes. I've always believed her and hoped that one day I would realize what the reason was. When my other health conditions developed, we had the same conversation. There was a reason behind my health problems.
Occasionally, ideas pop into my head. Sometimes I think I know, but mostly I feel that I have no clue what's behind all my health problems. It all seems so pointless. There is one consistent theme throughout the ideas in my mind though.
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I was at work, walking toward the cafeteria when Bert grabbed me. I play soccer with Bert. He was shaking and moving in clumsy circles and clearly disoriented. I immediately got out my testing supplies and checked his blood sugar. I snapped the pricker against his finger and blood drops spilled out continuously like a leaky faucet. When I saw the 7 on the meter screen, my heart stopped beating for a moment. I had never seen single digits. I sat Bert down in a chair and screamed for help. "I need juice!
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I've always been blessed with fairly amazing insurance. My dad worked for the city of Houston for several decades, so our family has always had the group policy with a large subscriber base and it's stayed the same since I was born.
After he retired, we kept the same insurance as part of his pension plan. Our co-pays rarely change for either doctors or prescriptions. They pay roughly eighty percent of most procedures and devices. And since I was blessed with a stable income family, I'm able to afford the $45 copays and twenty percent of the pump.
But in the last few years and with the new health issues, my health bills seem to be piling up. And with the economy the way it is, I'm starting to stress about how to pay for some of the necessary (and probably not so necessary) items.
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How can you tell when you've tried too many different diets? When you can't keep the rules of them straight any more. This month, I'm following the Atkins diet. I'm doing it because my doctor took me off meds and I know from experience (and trial and error) that I cannot keep my blood sugar in healthy ranges without meds if I eat any carbohydrates. It isn't right, it isn't fair and there isn't anything I can do about it.
So Atkins it is this month. I started out the year on Weight Watchers. I've always considered Weight Watchers to be one of the healthiest, sanest, most practical diets. Unfortunately, it wasn't working for me this time around. The leaders keep saying the Core plan is great for people with diabetes, but I couldn't lose weight on it. Besides, I was eating mostly whole grains, fresh veggies and lean proteins. I think my portions sizes were too large. I did better counting points, but still that was a struggle to keep my blood sugar in line.
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