Turbo Squid

It has been three years, seven months, and fourteen days since I was first sitting on that powder keg in the emergency room. I sat with my parents as my blood sugar was checked for the first time and the diagnosis was made. As plain as day, the doctor said the string of words I had never known before that time, type-1 diabetes. (READ MORE)

I am going to begin this, my very first blog post here, with a confession.

I have fallen off the wagon.

Not the booze wagon; even before my type 2 diagnosis in February 2006, my drinky drink days were mostly behind me. (College was fun, from what I remember.) No, the wagon I have fallen off of is the healthy living, weight-losing, diabetic-under-control wagon.

When I was diagnosed last year, my a1c was hovering above 10, and I was about 35 pounds overweight. I was also terrified. I was 38 years old, with that big number (let's call it "thirty-ten") lurking in the near future. My own father died at the age of fifty-one after about twenty years of poorly managed diabetes. I was determined that this wouldn't be me. (READ MORE)

doctorhousingbubble.com

I have many friends with type 1 diabetes. I have a few friends and many relatives with type 2 diabetes. I possibly have the MOST boring diagnosis story I have ever heard.

In 2003 I was pregnant with my son. I was given a glucose tolerance test at 28 weeks gestation. If you've never had one of these; they make you fast 12 hours and go to the lab first thing. They draw blood, then you drink a nasty syrupy concoction that is 75 grams of glucose.

They draw blood again after 1 hour and again after another hour. Then I asked the nurse for a place to lie down and I crashed out (my first clue my results might be high). In an hour, they woke me and drew more blood then sent me on my way. (READ MORE)

I got the call at work. I can't remember the date, but I'm pretty sure it was the day after No. 1's fifth birthday.

I have a pretty casual relationship with the nurse practitioner I see. I'm sure that's why he felt comfortable giving me the news at work instead of calling me into his office to drop the diabetes diagnosis bomb on me. I had been seeing Harry for several years, mainly for a host of small things and because it was pretty easy to get in to see Harry on short notice. Need to see the doctor? Can you wait two days? Need to see Harry? Can you be here in 20 minutes? Not to take anything away from his skills or anything, but I've established that I'm not a patient person. (READ MORE)

When I woke up this morning I didn't notice anything different. I heard my kids running around getting their stuff together for school. I sat up and walked directly to the bathroom to shave and shower as I do every day. I turned on the water and sat my pump on the counter just like yesterday and a lot like tomorrow.

Before I wet my face I caught of glimpse of myself in the mirror and stared at the infusion site on my stomach. I saw this medical device stuck to me like an IV or something. I noticed the curliness of the 43" tubing running from the site to my pump. I looked at my face and saw a tired guy. A guy that has a lot of choices and plans foiled because of this disease. (READ MORE)

juliaf

Today would have been my father's 59th birthday and as I was thinking about him I started thinking about all the people who have been important in my life and especially in my diabetes life.

My band director in high school was the one who asked the now fateful question, "Are you feeling okay?" It was drum rehearsal on Monday October 2nd 1990. I told him I was feeling a little light headed but that was it. He said that I looked pale and that was something I don't think I had ever heard before in my life. I have very dark skin since I am both Puerto Rican and Cuban so pale was not a norm for me. (READ MORE)