One of the earliest "grown-up" movies I remember seeing in the cinema was a comedy called Cold Turkey, starring Dick Van Dyke. The premise was that a small town would win what, for them, was an obscenely large amount of money if everybody in the entire town could stop smoking, "cold turkey" — that is, suddenly, as if the "off" button had been pressed and the power disconnected — for an entire month. The lengths the town fathers went to, to win, and the lengths the tobacco company went to, to ensure they didn't, made for laughter and hijinks that were accessible to even middle-school children.

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There's an old adage that says success is "one part inspiration, nine parts perspiration". We tend to see only the first part -- the results, the glitzy façade. Except at the finish line of a race -- whether that be marathon, triathlon, bicycle race, or horse race -- all hints of the perspiration (or let's face it, sweat) are carefully hidden.

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The first week in August marked the start of the 2010 run of the New York Renaissance Faire, an event in which the most popular exhibitions involve aiming long, pointy objects at impossibly small, circular targets. Whether it's an 8-foot-long lance hooking a three-inch-diameter ring, or a 26" arrow aimed at a bull's eye 100 yards away, or a sword or spear looking to unhinge a 1/2"-diameter ring of chain-mail armour, these are impressive displays of marksmanship and control -- kind of like trying to keep one's blood glucose levels between the mythical "102" and "104" (mg/dl) of glucometer-packaging displays, regardless of what one eats and when. (READ MORE)

Three topics that come up on any diabetes blog or forum, as certain as death and taxes, are blood glucose levels, hemoglobin A1c levels, and guilt. The usual dialog goes like this:

"No matter what I do, I can't get my blood glucose levels to stay within 'normal' non-diabetic levels. This is going to really screw up my A1c, which means more medications, getting yelled at by my doctor and my spouse and my family, not being safe to get pregnant, and all the 'Diabetes Police' coming down on me. If only I had avoided that one jelly donut three weeks ago...!"

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straymuse

My view of diabetes changes with the tides it seems. Sometimes I look at it as a lifestyle that I must adopt to stay healthy. Sometimes I look at it as a challenge in which I can take on and beat. Other times I look at it as a curse.

Right now, I look at my diabetes as a battle. A battle that I don't want to fight. Not now.

The problem is all of the fighting will never stop. We just fight and fight and there is no winning. No matter how much I stay in control or how much exercise I do, I will still have diabetes. My a1c can be the same as someone without diabetes but my battle will continue. (READ MORE)

"Your baby is going to be so fat," a friend told me with a smile last spring. To some people, there is nothing cuter than a chubby baby, so calling a baby fat is somewhat of a compliment. But for someone with type 2 diabetes, who has struggled with her weight for a good part of her life, the fat baby comment stings.

"You have diabetes, so of course your baby's going to be chubby," she continued. "They call them sugar babies."

It's a label that left me steamed for months. My child wasn't even born yet and already he's being called fat. I could envision a plump future laid out before him. Shopping in the husky section. Getting picked last in gym class. Being called Jupiter during lessons on the solar system. All this before the cruel middle school years. (READ MORE)