Today is the 6th Annual D-Blog Day and in some ways, I'm stymied by the topic: Gina has proposed we all do a 12" x 12" scrapbook page. Growing up, a scrapbook was a shoelace-tied book of heavy vellum-colored Manilla paper to which one pasted telegrams, newspaper clippings, greeting cards, and the like. In theory, one scrapbook could last a lifetime; in reality, the pages started falling out about five years in, and we always had to be careful not to lose either the pages or the stuff glued on to them. My mother's scrapbook has telegrams of congratulations from relatives who couldn't make her wedding and a guest-card with the lyrics to "Bei Mir Bist Du Shane", telegrams of congratulations when my sister and I were born, and newspaper clippings from every time one or another of us was mentioned in the local newspaper. (READ MORE)

Time and distance have also served to blunt not just periods of psychological distress, but also some of the everyday things I used to savor before.

As in, before I was diagnosed with diabetes.

Before I had diabetes, I didn't have to worry about eating a hamburger, pizza, Fettuccini Alfredo, or my favorite restaurant "cajun pasta" dishes. Now, any version I make at home is significantly modified to eliminate refined flours, reduce fats, and raise the vegetable count. You can hardly find the pasta in any of my "pasta" dishes.

Before I had diabetes, breakfast was a pint of orange juice and a bagel with cream cheese. Now, bagels are eaten in parts, and orange juice is a special-occasion item: a quarter bagel is one carbohydrate exchange, and a cup of orange juice is a huge portion of the daily calorie count.

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Dave R1

I don't remember being diagnosed. I don't remember being scared or angry. I don't remember the first shots or finger pricks. I hear stories sometimes, but those are rarely mentioned. I imagine how my little four-year-old self might react to learning about diabetes, but come up short most of the time.

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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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s0ulsurfing

Every day, I live my life with diabetes the same way. I test my blood sugar, I treat lows and I change infusion sets. It is a part of me. Sometimes, it is all of me. I get frustrated on a regular basis with the highs and lows or the way it interrupts my entire life from school to dating to sleep.

It amazes me though when I look back on all those days. It makes me smile. As frustrated as I get and all the tears I cry, I don't remember diabetes as my past. Surely, it's there. I just don't remember the daily parts of the disease. (READ MORE)