Non-Prescription Supply Program As of Monday, August 17 – ACT 1 has launched its non-prescription diabetes supplies program – check out the details and how you can participate here!
|
This post is by Ashlee! She is a wonderful ACT1 member who is currently working on designing t-shirts for all of you. You’ll have the chance to learn more about her, as she is now joining us for regular blogging. Most weeks, look out for her posts on Wednesdays!
Today I am thinking of beginnings. Not in the usual vein of having a clean slate, a sprouting seed, or a new day. Today was my anniversary of leaving my hometown of Salt Lake City for New York City, to “see how things would go.” Back then, I really did think I was starting over with a clean slate, cutting ties and arriving somewhere new with just the essentials packed in one large suitcase and a cardboard box. This was my first big venture away from friends, family, security. Away from a strong support network, starting over with all new doctors and a new life, I had everything to learn about being an independent adult, and every challenge of being a type 1 diabetic , going it alone. I was certain I was strong, I took for granted everything I believed about managing my diabetes and charged ahead into my new life, trying to carve out a what I had always dreamed of.
Yet here I am four years into life in the big city and I am faced with the reality that no matter how many circumstances I’ve altered in my life (or have altered for me) I am still the same person, even underneath the relentless weight of responsibility and activity of daily life. On the plus side, I can take that as a great sign of strength, of security and a reason to trust my instincts. However, this is an opportunity to be frank: My A1c has never in 23 years been below 8 and several times it has been well above that. It’s not something I like to admit out loud. It’s like a dirty little secret I keep from friends and family, and last week in my endocrinologist’s office, he read off my lab results, “Cholesterol: perfect, TSH: no problem, Vitamin D: finally acceptable, urine: all clear, A1c: still…no significant change.” It’s not like there is some kind of complacency in my heart. I expect the A1c to be different, even though it is not. My blood tests are exactly where I want them to be, except when they are not. I expected my life to be different, for better or worse by now, except that there are so many persistent things about being an adult with diabetes that just….are not different. So there are these times in your life when you recognize the difference between yourself and the circumstances, and you have to cut a deal.
Currently I am on vacation.. I came back to Salt Lake City, Utah. I am staying in the house I grew up in. My brother and his wife just had a brand new baby boy. When I sat out in the yard holding him yesterday, it was the kind of sunny day you don’t have in Manhattan, with the light shining down unobstructed and clean. I watched him sleeping in my lap, the kind of deep, impervious, uncomplicated but amazing sleep of a rapidly growing infant. The one word that floats around when people talk about him is “perfect.” He is, absolutely so. Not a bruise or mark on him, so symmetrical, soft, small and full of every hope that parents have. I had a moment thinking about how impossible it seemed that I was ever so small, so new, so….possible. I had to remind myself that I, too, was once that new and untried. There was no way to know at infancy that seven years later I would be diagnosed with Type 1. I am sure it must have been just as inconceivable for my parents, as it is when looking at my nephew now, that such a thing would happen. All you can have at that point is a lot of hope and happiness and expectation.
I expect that he will be strong. And stubborn. Independent. Curious. Smart. Those are the traits you inherit when you are a member of my family. He will grow, go on to do and learn so many things. And there will be sad days and disappointments, but when I look at him I don’t want anything to ever slow him down, the same way nothing now should intercept the basic needs of feeding, changing, sleeping, growing that is his life now. If I have that hope for him, why is it that much harder for me to have those same hopes for myself? Is it that more days turn out off the mark? Or that I have been through it and through it and through it all these years and don’t see it change? That I forget that I was really born on a cold day in January seven years before I became the diabetic version of myself? If I truly believe life In New York can’t cure me of everything I ever wanted to be different, that I am the same person as always, then somewhere inside I MUST be the person I was born to be, not the person diabetes has made me. That person, who was born to be strong, stubborn, independent , curious and smart, ought to be able to change. I should be able to get my A1c below 8. I should believe I am good and capable and hopeful, even if my blood sugar is off the mark. And if it’s spot on, I can get it to stay there more often than not.
So I have spent my time wisely on my vacation. I hold my nephew, because he is the sweetest reminder of what I want my life to feel like. I go to bed on time. I test at 3 am. I do my yoga when I get up, even if I don’t like it. I count my carbs. I test before and after meals. I take the time to do the things I have convinced myself are difficult to do when I am in New York, running for a subway or forging through traffic on Broadway. The rest of the time, I insist on doing only what I think will make me happy. I decided to start at the beginning. The most basic state. I have a lot of growing and learning to do.
This post is by Annie!
With nearly half of my office out on vacation, it has gotten me thinking about what I would do if I could go on vacation from diabetes. Imagine, being able to take off and go somewhere, without having to worry about packing test strips, insulin, pump supplies, glucose tabs and all the right clothing and accessories to wear with your pump. It would be nice to be able to be impulsive—stay another few nights? Sure! It’s not like I’d have to worry about running out of supplies.
Since this is an imaginary vacation, I myself would be going to an island, so it would also be nice to be able to wear a bathing suit without worrying about what to do with my pump, or switching to shots for a day or two. I could order frozen daiquiris and margaritas, and not worry about going high afterwards. I could have my food on the beach, without having to test and without having to figure out how many carbs are in the food I would eat. I could swim as long as I wanted or go for a walk without having to go back and reconnect to the pump, and I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping my pump covered up on the beach so it doesn’t get too hot.
But aside from all of these tangible things, it would be nice to just really be able to go on vacation. To take a break from the constant diabetes dialogue that runs in my head all day, every day. It would be nice to not have to worry about being low before going snorkeling or being high in the middle of the night after a delicious tropical smorgasbord. More than being able to leave all the diabetes stuff behind, I’d be most excited to leave the worry and stress behind. Someday, I really hope I get to experience this kind of vacation!
This post is by Caroline!
I got two voicemails from my mom last week that socked me in the gut in totally different ways.
The first was a very tense message saying that a dear relative was in the ICU. I was walking out of– of all places– tango class, and stopped dead in my tracks as soon as I heard. My first-cousin-once-removed M. had had a pulmonary embolism, almost without warning, and had been hospitalized a couple hours before.
Terrifying.
We all live in different states, so I was kept in the loop through frequent phone and Facebook updates. M. was moved out of the ICU after a couple days, and with that was allowed to move around again. We weren’t sure how long she was going to be stuck in the hospital, but the prognosis looked pretty good.
The second voicemail came a few days later, as I was leaving work. “Hi sweetie,” my mom said. “I just wanted to let you know that M. is in her own room now. The nurses were teaching her to give herself injections of something, I can’t remember what, but anyways– she may have to do it every day, she may only have to do it while she’s in the hospital. She said she was kind of scared and really didn’t want to do it, but then she thought, ‘if Caroline can do it, so can I.’ And that got her over it. She gave herself the shots just fine! I’ll call again when I hear more.”
Amazing.
M. left the hospital, thank goodness. She later wrote to me, “You were great inspiration for me as I am sure you are for many people.” Me? Really? Truth be told, I had no idea. After a while, the needles and the blood and the fears become such a part of life that they’re routine. Shooting up ye olde insulin is just what I have to do every day to stay alive and well. I didn’t realize that it made a difference to someone else.
But it can, and it does. And you, dear reader, whether or not you have diabetes– you are shining your light where you least expect, beaming inspiration to someone in the universe whether you realize or not.
This is what I will remember, when the road is rough and I just want to give up on taking care of myself: that once, without knowing, my strength gave someone else the courage to keep going.
Written by Caroline.
In solidarity with Annie this week (read her post before mine!), I would also like to rant about lows….the funnier side, anyways.
Ladies and gentlemen, the most embarrassing moment of my life resulted from a low blood sugar.
The scene: I was about to graduate from high school, and was cruising in single gear after breaking up with my boyfriend a couple months before. On the particular day when the gods of shame threw their thunderbolts at me, I was at my church, helping to move out my youth group’s closet.
Maybe it was all the heavy lifting, maybe it was my lunch, who knows– but I started to feel SUPER lightheaded and knew I needed to bolt. I staggered to a corner and tested– sure enough, my BG was 62. I ducked out of church and headed to the Panera located oh-so-conveniently across the street.
Confession: I am really bad at just getting a tiny carton of juice or a few glucose tabs when I’m low. My blood sugar crashes, and it feels like every molecule in my body is shrieking, “FEED ME! NOW, BIZATCH! DO IT! OM NOM NOMMMMMMMMM MORE!” And they keep doing so until I snap out of it and realize that I have snarfed down a bag of Skittles, Pop-Tarts, and two containers of yogurt. (I know this is a problem that many diabetics face….I am just especially voracious.) So instead of hiding in the church kitchen with a cup of lemonade, I staggered into Panera and ordered a bagel. And then I got a smoothie, just in case. I started gnawing on the bagel while I waited for them to whip up the smoothie, when I looked around the cafe and spotted….my ex-boyfriend.
Now, we were fine friends, so upon getting my smoothie I drifted over to the couch he was sitting on and plopped next to him. “Hi, Plato*” I said. He said hello. I slurped my smoothie. And then I saw a classmate of ours– a girl we shall call Athena* – approach with a tray. I knew her, but only vaguely. She looked at the two of us. I said hi. She sat down in the chair next to Plato.
I asked them about finals, and so we got to talking about the end of the school year. I, the senior amongst two underclassmen, yammered away about how excited I was to graduate and head off to college. I can barely remember what we talked about….I just know that I could not shut up. I was talking talking talking while steadily working through all 60 carbs of that bagel. Athena, on the other hand, ate very quickly, then stood up with her tray. “Bye, Plato,” she said. “Um…see you later?”
“Yeah,” Plato replied. They waved awkwardly and she left. He departed shortly afterwards, not making eye contact with me as he left.
So there I was, sitting on the couch alone, still working on my honeydew smoothie. I could feel my mental faculties returning to me. And all of a sudden– I swear, it was like a half ton of bricks had instantly been lobbed at my head– I thought:
OH MY GOD, DID I JUST CRASH SOMEBODY’S DATE?!
MY EX-BOYFRIEND’S DATE?!?!
Yes. It is true. Upon repeated harassment on AIM, my ex confirmed it for me. Hypoglycemia, thrown on top of my normal social ineptitude, led me to cause…a three-car pileup of romantic awkward!
I am happy to report that it did not curse their relationship, and that the two of them ended up getting together. I think the only lasting damage was to my ego.
Dear d-friends, have YOU ever done anything particular cringeworthy and/or hilarious while low?
*Names changed to protect anonymity. And to have some fun.
Written by Lesley.
As much as I hate my Diabetes, sometimes I feel like praising it. The logic behind that is totally illogical. I’d be praising an inanimate “thing” for behaving, when its very essence is to “misbehave,” if you’re following me.
You see, the past month or so has been very stressful. Wedding planning has been insane and is quickly losing its fun and pleasure and is instead becoming very upsetting. There is so much to be done and because Matt and I live in a different city from where we’re getting married, we are left feeling very helpless and guilty. Work has also been stressful as I’m a one-woman show and the accomplishments and failures of the school all fall on my shoulders. On top of that, I was also sick all of last week with an awful cold and just wasn’t feeling like myself. I wasn’t sleeping well at night and was miserable during the day both from being sick and from my lack of sleep. Furthermore, three of my best friends from growing up all had babies within a one week stretch. I of course stress when I don’t hear from them, so waiting to hear that their labor was successful and that their respective babies were healthy was like waiting on pins and needles. One of my friends in particular had a rather rough labor and ended up having an emergency C-section. Thankfully, all of them gave birth to very healthy baby boys and are all doing well themselves.
All of these things combined should probably lead to very high blood sugars, maybe a few unexpected lows and lots of frustration, but for some reason, my sugars have been great. My meter still says my blood sugar average is in the 150′s which I am happy with. I also haven’t gotten that many lows which is wonderful. I am a big believer in everything happening for a reason; I can’t explain why, but I just strongly believe this. I’m just wondering why now my blood sugars and Diabetes are behaving so nicely. I almost wish that as Diabetics, we could pick particular times in our lives when our Diabetes behaves and we can focus on other, more important things. I guess that’s not the way life works.
So for now, I’ll just give my Diabetes a gold star and be on my way!
|
|
