I have been incredibly busy this week. I finally finished cleaning my apartment. I've packed two suitcases full of winter clothes and pictures to take back home...to help with the moving process in May. Plus I've been focusing on school: a yoga final, a 15 page paper, editing two papers for classmates, and trying to actually GET to class for once.

Between it all, I haven't had much time for the rest of my life. My post on "Balance" really hit home as my week is coming to a close. My bags are ready to be loaded tomorrow morning so I can spend the day unpacking them and visiting my mom (who I won't see again until we leave for Europe in mid May). There are multiple piles of things that need to go to the recycling center. And my school books are looming in a pile on the coffee table.

So where is diabetes in this hectic day? Right smack dab in the middle, that's where.

I got out of bed on time this morning, despite desperately wanting to crawl under the covers until my eyes didn't hurt so badly. I made it to my yoga classroom with my pencil in hand. And as I prepared myself for the easiest test that I have taken since elementary, I noticed my wrist.

Or better yet...a missing piece of me. The bracelet that I wear 24/7 was gone. Not just any bracelet, but my medic alert bracelet. Even as easy as the yoga exam was, my brain couldn't function. I was mentally retracing things in my head.

I got outside the building and dumped my bag into my lap. Nothing. I rewalked my steps, hoping to see a glimpse of silver on the ground. I searched the trunk of my car and the floorboards right there in the parking garage. Nothing. And nothing.

I was panicked. This is literally like waking up and realizing you have no nose. It's huge. Massive. I never ever take it off, not for anything. Not to shower or clean or whatever. It's ALWAYS there. It feels so naked without it.

So I got home and searched through the sheets and the sofa and the drawers that I rifled through the night before. I texted Marvin to ask if he'd remembered me having it Tuesday night. I remembered one night that it left its usual indents in my wrist, but I couldn't remember if it was Wednesday or Tuesday. Maybe he'd know. He said he thought I had it. That limited it.

Yet it still didn't turn up. I checked the car again. Still nothing. So I headed to the jewelry store and called my mom. We both agreed to just immediately replace it (one problem being that if someone finds it, we have the incorrect phone number). I wasn't sure if they even still carried it or how long it might take. My main concern was that I was making the 1.5 hour drive home, feeling so naked. What if's ran through my mind.

The jewelry store had them. In stock even. I could have kissed the saleswoman. Problem: their engraving takes 2 weeks, no ability to rush. Ugh, annoyance. So I headed to a place in the mall that does engravings.

And three hours later, I picked up my shiny new medic alert bracelet. With its new engraving. I don't like it. I mean, I like the bracelet. But I hate the engraving. It's small and hard to read. At least to me. You can read it if you try, but I'm so accustomed to the ease of my other bracelet that it just feels weird to have something different. It still feels like something is missing.

My mom is going to give her opinion when I see her next. Perhaps it needs to be buffed and re-engraved, if that's even possible. I have no idea. But at least there is a bracelet on my wrist. And at least I feel less naked, less unwhole.

It's so amazing that this one piece of jewelry can provide such comfort to my diabetes soul. I cannot imagine living everyday without something that let someone know I was diabetic. It calms my heart. All the possible reasons to need it...car accidents, fires, randomly passing out in the grocery store...are relieved when it's on my wrist. I just can't imagine it another way.

So there diabetes is. In the mix of finals, class, and packing for the next big thing in my life. It shows itself, how in control it can be, how out of control it can make me feel. Not to mention that after picking up the bracelet (with the stress of the day), my blood sugar dropped to 69. There you go again, diabetes. Thanks.