I was just about to walk out the door this morning when the phone range. Caller ID showed the name of a friend I had planned to call later. It was just before 9 a.m.

"How's The Mr.?" she wanted to know, referring to his recovery effort from Tuesday's surgery to repair an abdominal hernia.

"He's fine," I said. "How's Matt?"

"Oh, you heard?" she said uneasily.

"Yeah, K. told me last night when she dropped No. 1 off after Scouts," I said.

"Blood sugar," she said. "It was 60."

"Oh," I said, feeling relieved that it wasn't the seizure we all thought it was and that this first-grader is prone to. "OH...," I said, my voice getting lower and hinting at sadness and disapointment.

We both know what this low blood sugar might lead to, what it's a sign of. My friend, Matt's mom, is a nurse. She also has type 2 diabetes.

"Maybe it was just a fluke," I said.

Neither of us ever actually said the word 'diabetes.' (READ MORE)

Michelle Kowalski

I keep saying that my new diagnosis doesn't change anything, but it does. It just does. I can't put my finger on it, and many of the things that are going through my mind as being "worse" than having type 2 are likely just unfounded fears. (READ MORE)

I’m not afraid of needles, but I must admit that I’m a little fearful of the bloodwork I’m scheduled to have in a few weeks.
 

Since I finally found an endo practice that I enjoy (yes, I know I still haven’t blogged about it yet!), they naturally want their own bloodwork. Which is great. And fine with me. It’s just the type of bloodwork that’s being done that’s leaving me a little uneasy.
 

I know it shouldn’t. And, really, I’m not uneasy I’m just kind of … I don’t know… just nervous? anxious? curious?
  (READ MORE)