Don't go swimming right after eating lest you drown. -- Advice to schoolchildren, circa 1970.

When our gradeschool teachers started teaching us the basics of physiology, they taught us that blood brought oxygen and nutrients to our brains, our digestive systems (simplified to "stomachs"), and our limbs, and that these three systems were constantly battling for better allocation of resources.

According to our teachers, our brains always won out because they had to control the rest of our bodies.

Our legs came second, for survival reasons. The concepts of "adrenaline rush" and "fight or flight" were simplified to our grade level.

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"What does pot have to do with diabetes?" The question came up in the course of a lunchtime conversation with Chris Goldstein of the Coalition for Medical Marijuana - New Jersey, as we discussed our respective advocacies. (New Jersey is currently in the middle of a medical-marijuana tug-of-war.) When the uses of medical marijuana are broached in the media, it's usually in conjunction with terminal cancer -- or intense, persistent pain. The last time I sat in on a presentation on medical marijuana, the speaker explained how it eased many of the symptoms of his late wife's multiple sclerosis. But diabetes? Tell me another one.

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While I posted yesterday that Nick Jonas was in New York Sunday for the Diabetes Research Institute's Carnival for a Cure, I didn't mention much about the event itself. Billed as "New York City's largest indoor carnival," the event was a cross between a street fair and an arcade, aimed largely at the under-twelve crowd. Three walls of the Metropolitan Pavillion were lined with inflatable mazes, slides, and bounce rooms, and a human-powered "mechanical bull". Several street-fair games-of-skill, aimed again at the under-twelve set, occupied a block of canopies in the center of the room. Prize tickets were given to the winners, and by the end of the afternoon almost every family there was wrangling multiple shopping bags of toys. (READ MORE)

It's been a bit busy this week, leaving me somewhat late on reporting back on Saturday's d-group meeting to see Breakthrough: The Dramatic Story of the Discovery of Insulin, a special exhibit showing at the New York Historical Society. Since I had to work Sunday, this ended up as the total of my World Diabetes Day celebrations this year.

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George mentioned in a recent post that he no longer supports the American Diabetes Association (ADA) -- just the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF) -- because as a Type 1, he feels the ADA does not have his best interests in mind. I'm not sure whether or not I agree with George's assessment, but the ADA has programs aimed at the improvement of life and quality of life for all people with diabetes (regardless of type), while the JDRF is focused exclusively on people with Type 1/autoimmune diabetes. In that light, charity dollars going to an organization such as the JDRF may have a more concentrated effect on George's life with diabetes.

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I had one of those moments today that reminded me what I enjoy most being a writer: It gives me access to things I would otherwise never experience. Today I got to sit in a room filled with diabetes experts--nurses, doctors, dietitians--you know, people with lots of letters after their names. I had no business being a part of their group, but as a writer who tends to focus on diabetes, I was invited in.

The seminar was on gestational diabetes and the treatment of pregnancy complicated by pre-existing diabetes. To many people, this may not sound very exciting, but to me, it was better than going to a rock concert (and don't get me wrong, I love music!). (READ MORE)