I've gone back and forth about whether to wear a medical ID bracelet. Part of me says I shouldn't bother because once a paramedic friend of mine told me one of the first things they do to a person who has passed out is to check their blood sugar. Part of me says I should wear one as an extra measure of caution.

I wore a medical ID bracelet throughout my third pregnancy. I don't think I ever took it off -- not in the shower, not for exercise, nothing. I don't remember why I stopped wearing it. Perhaps I lost it. In fact, now that I think about it, I think that's exactly what happened. I had removed the ugly silver chain and replaced it with strands of colorful beads to match whatever I was wearing. Well, the chains and clasps were cheap and ...

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pixel packing mama

Just the other day I was speaking with a group of co-workers about different life changing events in the life of someone with diabetes. As we sat there and talked about it I began to reflect on my own. I thought about the different times in my life such as diagnosis time, school, relationships, complications, and work. All things that every person living with diabetes can relate to, or will eventually deal with.

Where were you when you were diagnosed? What were you doing that day or at that particular time in your life? Were you at work? Were you at school? Did you go into a coma or diabetic ketoacidosis? Was your vision so blurry, that like me, you realized you couldn't see the picture on the t.v.?
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I am a writer. At times, I fancy myself an artist. I create things. With pen, paper, a camera, paint.

My mother says that I ate the world up as a young girl. That I couldn't get enough. I would stay up into the wee hours, watching the shadows on the wall or examining the shapes on the wallpaper from top to bottom and then bottom to top. She also says I didn't care to sleep. She felt I was afraid I'd miss something. I think she's right.

I still spend a lot of time looking at things. Feeling light, color, and texture with my eyes. Scrutinizing the world around me. I suppose some of this is the artist in me. The need to really SEE things before I can include them in the art I'm making.

And some of it is how afraid I am of losing my eyesight. (READ MORE)

Perhaps one of the absolute worst parts of having diabetes is putting up with the expectations of others. When someone hears "diabetes" they expect to see you eating "right" all the time, avoiding sweets all the time, and worshipping your body all the time.

We all know that just doesn't happen. We are human. Everyone needs a break from the chains that bind us.

Over the last week or so, I have found myself defending a person I never in my adult life thought I would defend. My incredible half-sister told me recently that her mother has been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. With a sister and a mother with diabetes, she is, naturally, completely freaked out that she's next. Not to mention scared for our health and our future.

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I've been bragging for a few months now that Mom and Dad are flying my family, my brother's family and my single brother to Catalina Island, Calif., in June to celebrate Mom's 60th birthday (which is in August). Having spent quite a bit of time at the beach as a youngster, I simply can't wait to introduce my children to the ocean.

Although the trip isn't until the first week of June, I've already done some preparing. I'm making mental lists of supplies I'll need for the kids, noting which suitcases to take, realizing I need to drop a few pounds, and even (gasp!) deciding to buy a new swim suit since it's been years since I had a new one. (I think I may need to be heavily sedated or severely drunk for that dressing room session!) (READ MORE)

Wayne Photo Guy

Diabetes has made me a hypochondriac. Every ache, every pain, every change is some condition, disease or syndrome. Now typically I don't truly believe I have any of the things I so often "self-diagnose," but I have to admit that I am constantly living in the shadow of my diabetes. (READ MORE)