Olivia has had diabetes for almost ten years now. The first few years were a struggle, emotionally and blood sugar-wise. I felt like I'd gone back to school - I had to learn this new language, this new way of life and it was hard.

It's been so long now, though, that diabetes care is pretty much second nature for us. We all look at carb information on packages of food, we're all really good at guessing when that information isn't there. I've talked about this stuff with my family, too. I thought they were on board with it all. I didn't expect them to be as expert as I am (and believe me, I know I could always know more), but I thought they'd at least gleaned information from all of my speeches over the years. (READ MORE)

While waiting for Olivia to take her swim test at Clara Barton last week, I was eavesdropping on a couple of girls standing in front of me. They scared the crap out of me.

They were both talking about how they hated having to take insulin because insulin makes you fat. "It's true," one girl said, "I read it on the internet." The other girl was amazed, but believed her readily.

Then they started discussing how they both let themselves run high - so high that their meters just say HI - in order to maintain or even lose some weight. They both said that they rarely checked themselves, maybe checked a couple of times a week, lied to their parents about the frequency of their checks and made up bg readings. At this point, my eyebrows were practically at my hairline and I was trying to unobtrusively move a little closer so I could continue to listen. (READ MORE)

I haven't changed the lancet in my "finger sticker" for a couple days now. Surely I am not the only one around that does that!??. I changed it because I visited a friend this past weekend and, "he wanted to see what his blood sugar was." I know I am not the only one around that has gotten that request. Curious "non-diabetic" pals or acquaintances always want to, "see what it says for them". And then I give the explanation about what a "normal" range is and what the number that is displayed on the meter "means". It is all fine and dandy though. I kind of like taking the "teacher" role when this situation arises. It provides me the opportunity for one-on-one, and maybe even sometimes group presentations on diabetes. Maybe we could just call this "Diabetes 101". Diabetics around the world could start charging tuition for quick, on the spot, diabetes education classes! How does 5 dollars per person sound? (READ MORE)

How often has this question been debated?

Olivia doesn't care what she's called. She calls herself diabetic often. I'm the one with the issue. I always say that she has diabetes. To me, calling her a diabetic makes her only her disease.

On dLife a couple of weeks ago, Jim Turner said that he was always a diabetic, that diabetes was what he thought about, what was going on in the background all the time, no matter what else he was doing. He was, first and foremost, a diabetic.

I can understand that thought process, but I don't agree with it. Yes, diabetes takes up a lot of space in the brain and it's not something that can be shoved aside and forgotten. You always have to take it into consideration. But you take it into consideration along side your life. Your life as a person. A person with diabetes, yes, but a person with a life. A person who is a sister, daughter, student, drama queen and soccer player as well as a person with diabetes. (READ MORE)

I like to think I'm a pretty easy going person. There's not much that rattles my cage. Well, you might check with The Mr. on that one. I guess what I'm getting at is that up until recently, I haven't really had any diabetes-related pet peeves. Especially not in the realm of Did you actually just say that to me?

There was that one time when a friend of mine forgot I had diabetes and apologized several days later for setting a plate of (burned) cookies (which I didn't eat because they were BURNED) in front of me during a meeting. I sort of laughed that one off. I mean, saying you're sorry for encouraging someone to eat burned cookies is actually a little comical. (READ MORE)

Almost since I put Toohey on for the first time, I've been waiting for someone outside of the medical field to ask me about it.
Yesterday during our annual editorial summit--which brings together most of our editors, field editors, publishers, art directors and other editorial contributors--my colleague next to me leaned over and gently touched my shoulder.

"Is that an insulin pump?" he whispered.

"Mmm-hmm," I said with a smile and a nod.

"I want to talk to you," he said.

I was almost giddy with excitement. We were hours from a break, even longer until dinner where we could certainly sit and talk without feeling rushed. I was dying to let the flood gates open.

There were several breaks during the afternoon, but we didn't broach the subject. I think we both knew the conversation was one suited for longer than 15 minutes. (READ MORE)