I discovered yesterday that there's an enormous difference between staring at your mortality in the form of diabetes and in the form of debilitating pain that could quite possibly lead to a pretty poor quality of life.

Diabetes is manageable. A high is treatable. A low is annoying, and treatable. Diabetes is a hassle but it's livable. As I type this post I'm dealing with a 57 mg/dL post dinner reading that's giving me the shakes. It pisses me off and leaves me dying for a cure, but in the day to day scheme of things diabetes is -- or can be -- a blip on the radar.

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This weekend, for the fourth time, my back went out of whack. What'd I do? Simply bent over the couch to put a Christmas tree decoration into a box. The first time it happened: I was leaning over my pump supply box for new supplies; the second time, leaning over to put a new trashbag in the trash can; the third time, leaning over the grocery cart to get items for check out. Notice a pattern?

It was just four months ago the last time it happened. At least each time it happens the symptoms aren't as bad as the last. At least this time I had more movement than I did last time. This time I could move around enough to cook for the kids and do a few chores around the house. The injury happened on Friday and by Sunday I was out shopping with No. 2, though I was still pretty stiff and had to lie down as soon as we got home.

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For the third time in less than two years I found myself flat on my back for several days due to what I believe is a wacked out sacro joint.

It would be really fabulous to be able to tell you that I injured myself doing something muscular or that I was lifting or moving something or something else more or less worthy of an injury. But, no, I was leaning over the grocery cart to get items to put on the checkout counter. At least I was able to drive myself home.

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