This last weekend, my sister F and niece Emily made the 70 mile drive to central Minnesota to look in on my mother. We'd received a call from assisted living that she was coughing a lot and also very tired.
We took her to the dr, who said that she "perhaps" had pneumonia. They couldn't tell by a chest x-ray because there was too much scar tissue from the emphysema, nor could he tell by listening to her lungs. I said "pneumonia is very serious in someone with existing lung problems, right?" He then muttered that we should hope that it was pneumonia, which could be treated. Worsening emphysema cannot - one just progresses further down the tunnel of poor health. My M does not have much of a margin left before her quality of life is totally hosed.
So, it was not a happy visit. On the way home, Em and I were sitting in the backseat, playing travel bingo and working on learning some old Beatle songs. I took out my meter and lanced my finger. Em said, "wow - is that blood?". I told her that yes, it was blood, and that I was going to put it on a little piece of plastic and then a number would show up on the screen. We waited and looked at the number. I told her that the number tells me what to do next to take care of myself.
A few minutes later we pulled into a gas station and F turned around and shouted "don't you ever do that again - Emily is traumatized". Well, that was news to me. Em was singing "Good Day Sunshine" somewhat offkey but with a lot of gusto.
In truth, it was F that does not want to be reminded that I have db. She was very close to one of my cousins that died from it a couple of years ago. None of my immediate family has ever seen me take an injection, and I've always discreetly treated my hypos. It's a lot to keep up with. But no, I musn't upset anybody.
When we got back to my place they both came in to try on a sweater that I'm knitting for Em. F was in the kitchen and saw a piece of paper on my frig. Plain and simple, it is a list of all my meds and db stuff that I need to pack when we go home for my M's final days and/or funeral. F knew that and then again blew up. "You've already got her dead and in the grave - how can you think like that?" I calmly told her that the list had been written 9 months ago. I took it and moved it to the side of the fridge.
F is a high strung person, and my M's illness has been difficult for her. She refuses to talk about the funeral when M brings it up, but, I have. I don't know how to handle these episodes but to keep my mouth shut and not stir the pot.
I've talked to my friend Elise about it and told her that I was willing to make the compromise so that I could be a part of Emily's life. She said, "but there's no compromise involved. You are letting F dictate all your actions - she is not giving up anything". Hmmmm.
Well, hopefully she's cooled down. I'm tired of tiptoeing, and need to take the stage front and center, with everything that belongs to me. DB and ailing mother included.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Complicated Fear
I have had two moments in my db career disrupted by a fear so acute that I felt like I was being devoured.
One was 12 years ago, when I tried Lantus and ended up with a "reaction" which put me in the hospital for 8 nights with symptoms of heart failure. That was a lot of time to think about death and disability. (My heart is fine.) The second was 6 years ago when I had emergency surgery for my detached retina and had to lie face down, not moving, for 7 days as it healed. The doc said the outcome could be anything from being able to recognized shapes to possible 20/60 vision. I recovered to 20/30 vision and remain one of his "best success stories".
I figure that at some point my luck will run out...................and thought I was at that point a month ago.
I'd had a high fever for a couple of days with no other symptoms. I went to Urgent Care and the doc was mystified. She kept going down the list and said in addition to a chest x-ray they would do a urinalysis to see if anything showed signs of infection.
After a long wait back in the exam room, the doc came in and asked if I had kidney disease. I told her no, and that my last a/c ratio (albumin/creatinine ratio) was normal and that had been done 4 months ago. I told her that I had some urine spillage about 6 years ago that subsided after I started on an ace inhibitor. She explained that I had a "huge amount" of protein in my urine and I interuppted and said "well, that could be due to an infection, right" and she then said there were no other factors which indicated an infection and that this was probably "acute onset diabetic nephropathy".
Oh. My.
I got home and my inner monologue was something like this - "....ok, ok.........so my kidney's might be failing.......maybe it's early in the process....... maybe I've lived long enough.........maybe I'll die and then not have to deal with all this crud anymore........". One of my relatives had just been taken off
the kidney/pancreas transplant list because his condition had weakened to the point where he would not survive the surgery.
The next morning I called my pcp's office and asked that the doc review the notes and call me back. The nurse phoned back in 20 minutes and said "the dr. wants to see you immediately - you need to come in today - we'll make room for you". Gulp. By then I was in that robot-like numbness where I send myself when things get too scary.
Dr. Steve came in the room and said that yes, this was a problem and needed to be addressed. We'd start with a 24 hour urine collection. Fortunately, the creatinine level in my blood was normal, but, it doesn't start to elevate until about half your kidney function is gone.
So I waited a few days to calm down and then did the collection. I brought the jug to the lab on July 17 and was told that my pcp would call me with the results, usually within a few days. The next week I jumped every time the phone rang at work and held my breath while listening to my messages at home. I made a couple of significant errors at work and was overtly mean to a couple of good friends. No news.
The next Monday, the 28th, I called the clinic and said I wanted the pcp to call me with the results. I was told he was on vacation. I asked to speak with his nurse and no, only the doc can give you the results. I asked to speak with whoever was covering for him but never got a call back.
I decided that I didn't care if I was dying or not - and conveniently erased the prior 3 weeks from my mind and stumbled about on auto-pilot.
Then, last Friday, August 15th, I got a letter from the doc. He wrote "Kathy, your kidneys look good. I don't know what the episode was about but presently there is nothing to indicate any damage or to be concerned about. See you in 3 months.".
Soooooooo.......I wasted a month of summer walking around like a zombie. I am too emotionally exhausted to be angry, and then, who would I be pissed off with? Maybe it was a lab error; maybe it was the body trying to tell me that I need to pull in the reins and improve my control; maybe it was a higher source reminding me that I am very lucky. Sigh..................
On a closing note, we have a lovely party last weekend for my mom's 81 birthday. She has had several major episodes of illness in the last 2 years and been in assisted living since February. Sometimes when I call her she is in la-la land. But, on the day of the celebration she was extremely good, as you can see on the picture. With her is my precious niece, Emily. Em came to be with our family just before her first birthday, and cracked open all of our hearts with the soft tap of one tiny finger...........sniffle, sniffle.
One was 12 years ago, when I tried Lantus and ended up with a "reaction" which put me in the hospital for 8 nights with symptoms of heart failure. That was a lot of time to think about death and disability. (My heart is fine.) The second was 6 years ago when I had emergency surgery for my detached retina and had to lie face down, not moving, for 7 days as it healed. The doc said the outcome could be anything from being able to recognized shapes to possible 20/60 vision. I recovered to 20/30 vision and remain one of his "best success stories".
I figure that at some point my luck will run out...................and thought I was at that point a month ago.
I'd had a high fever for a couple of days with no other symptoms. I went to Urgent Care and the doc was mystified. She kept going down the list and said in addition to a chest x-ray they would do a urinalysis to see if anything showed signs of infection.
After a long wait back in the exam room, the doc came in and asked if I had kidney disease. I told her no, and that my last a/c ratio (albumin/creatinine ratio) was normal and that had been done 4 months ago. I told her that I had some urine spillage about 6 years ago that subsided after I started on an ace inhibitor. She explained that I had a "huge amount" of protein in my urine and I interuppted and said "well, that could be due to an infection, right" and she then said there were no other factors which indicated an infection and that this was probably "acute onset diabetic nephropathy".
Oh. My.
I got home and my inner monologue was something like this - "....ok, ok.........so my kidney's might be failing.......maybe it's early in the process....... maybe I've lived long enough.........maybe I'll die and then not have to deal with all this crud anymore........". One of my relatives had just been taken off
the kidney/pancreas transplant list because his condition had weakened to the point where he would not survive the surgery.
The next morning I called my pcp's office and asked that the doc review the notes and call me back. The nurse phoned back in 20 minutes and said "the dr. wants to see you immediately - you need to come in today - we'll make room for you". Gulp. By then I was in that robot-like numbness where I send myself when things get too scary.
Dr. Steve came in the room and said that yes, this was a problem and needed to be addressed. We'd start with a 24 hour urine collection. Fortunately, the creatinine level in my blood was normal, but, it doesn't start to elevate until about half your kidney function is gone.
So I waited a few days to calm down and then did the collection. I brought the jug to the lab on July 17 and was told that my pcp would call me with the results, usually within a few days. The next week I jumped every time the phone rang at work and held my breath while listening to my messages at home. I made a couple of significant errors at work and was overtly mean to a couple of good friends. No news.
The next Monday, the 28th, I called the clinic and said I wanted the pcp to call me with the results. I was told he was on vacation. I asked to speak with his nurse and no, only the doc can give you the results. I asked to speak with whoever was covering for him but never got a call back.
I decided that I didn't care if I was dying or not - and conveniently erased the prior 3 weeks from my mind and stumbled about on auto-pilot.
Then, last Friday, August 15th, I got a letter from the doc. He wrote "Kathy, your kidneys look good. I don't know what the episode was about but presently there is nothing to indicate any damage or to be concerned about. See you in 3 months.".
Soooooooo.......I wasted a month of summer walking around like a zombie. I am too emotionally exhausted to be angry, and then, who would I be pissed off with? Maybe it was a lab error; maybe it was the body trying to tell me that I need to pull in the reins and improve my control; maybe it was a higher source reminding me that I am very lucky. Sigh..................
On a closing note, we have a lovely party last weekend for my mom's 81 birthday. She has had several major episodes of illness in the last 2 years and been in assisted living since February. Sometimes when I call her she is in la-la land. But, on the day of the celebration she was extremely good, as you can see on the picture. With her is my precious niece, Emily. Em came to be with our family just before her first birthday, and cracked open all of our hearts with the soft tap of one tiny finger...........sniffle, sniffle.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Dr Steve
Dr. Steve is my primary care physician. Because I do not pump and do not have an A1C over 8, my insurance will pay for one endo visit per year. The others are with the pcp.
Last Tuesday I was at the clinic for cholesterol bloodwork. I got there at 7:30 and knew that I was crashing - the really bad crash where you sweat buckets. The phlebotomist came to get me and I stood up but did not follow her - just stood there. I was able to explain that I was T1 and low. She said, "oh, my aunt has diabetes and she takes Glucophage" (what's that got to do with the price of eggs?).
She asked me my date of birth and I couldn't remember. She asked me how old I was and I guess I answered correctly. Then she had to peel all the little labels off my sheet and carefully attach each one to a tube. Finally the blood was drawn and she brought me a can of juice which I gulped in one swig. "You're feeling better now, right?" I stumbled out to the reception area and fell into a chair.
I got up to Internal Medicine and sat in the exam room for 50 minutes. I do not like sitting in exam rooms - I get freaked out and my mind races about illness and death. The copy of Ardhitectural Digest was of no interest. The nurse came and took my bp and it was 135/75. That upset me more. Plus, I was exhausted from the hypo and my hair was flat and stringy from the sweat.
Dr. Steve came in looking quite frazzled. He said my LDL was 118, up from last time and that in pwd it should be less than 100. "Let's get started on Zocor right away."
I respond how I usually do - started crying. I was upset and then started spewing off how I felt like I was always a bunch of numbers on a piece of paper and no one at the clinic treated me like a person. Poor guy, he did not deserve this. I have been eating poorly -making very unwise choices, using my mother's illness as an excuse. I was not surprised at the higher reading.
I need to cut the doc a little slack. After all, the numbers on the paper give him the information to make the proper decisions for my care.
He left with the agreement that I would try a small dose at night for 6 weeks and then we'd retest and reevaluate. No biggie.
Patients who have a high bp reading must at the end of their appointment go into another room and have three more readings done at 5 minute intervals by a machine. By then I'd calmed down and the average was 116/68. Good.
Yesterday I got the letter from Dr. Steve with all my results on paper.
Note how he altered the salutation...............that meant a lot to me.
Last Tuesday I was at the clinic for cholesterol bloodwork. I got there at 7:30 and knew that I was crashing - the really bad crash where you sweat buckets. The phlebotomist came to get me and I stood up but did not follow her - just stood there. I was able to explain that I was T1 and low. She said, "oh, my aunt has diabetes and she takes Glucophage" (what's that got to do with the price of eggs?).
She asked me my date of birth and I couldn't remember. She asked me how old I was and I guess I answered correctly. Then she had to peel all the little labels off my sheet and carefully attach each one to a tube. Finally the blood was drawn and she brought me a can of juice which I gulped in one swig. "You're feeling better now, right?" I stumbled out to the reception area and fell into a chair.
I got up to Internal Medicine and sat in the exam room for 50 minutes. I do not like sitting in exam rooms - I get freaked out and my mind races about illness and death. The copy of Ardhitectural Digest was of no interest. The nurse came and took my bp and it was 135/75. That upset me more. Plus, I was exhausted from the hypo and my hair was flat and stringy from the sweat.
Dr. Steve came in looking quite frazzled. He said my LDL was 118, up from last time and that in pwd it should be less than 100. "Let's get started on Zocor right away."
I respond how I usually do - started crying. I was upset and then started spewing off how I felt like I was always a bunch of numbers on a piece of paper and no one at the clinic treated me like a person. Poor guy, he did not deserve this. I have been eating poorly -making very unwise choices, using my mother's illness as an excuse. I was not surprised at the higher reading.
I need to cut the doc a little slack. After all, the numbers on the paper give him the information to make the proper decisions for my care.
He left with the agreement that I would try a small dose at night for 6 weeks and then we'd retest and reevaluate. No biggie.
Patients who have a high bp reading must at the end of their appointment go into another room and have three more readings done at 5 minute intervals by a machine. By then I'd calmed down and the average was 116/68. Good.
Yesterday I got the letter from Dr. Steve with all my results on paper.
Note how he altered the salutation...............that meant a lot to me.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Don't Blame the Bagels
When things go wrong on the db front due to me ignoring the facts, it's very tempting to put the blame outside of myself. DB is so hard to live with. I hate it. Blah blah blah.....
I work in an office of 90 people. It is an unwritten tradition that people bring treats on their birthday. Usually it's bagels, because Brueggers is nearby and they deliver for free (!!)
If asked the question re which food really plays havoc with my bg, bagels are near the top of the list. Those dang bagels. They always cause me to spike. It's not fair.
But it isn't really the bagsl's fault. A standard Brueggers bagel has over 60 grams of carb. I did not realize this until 10 years ago when I was in the hospital and the dietician was discussing what I usually had for lunch. I told her I brought my lunch to work but on occasion I'd go and get a bagel sandwich. She told me that a B. bagel had four carb exchanges. Yikes.
I am very sensitive to carbs in the morning and sometimes even delay breakfast until about 9 a.m. My ins/carb ratio is 1/5 at the beginning of the day, but by evening I'm at 1/20. Thinking from a logical standpoint, there is no way that I'm going to come through 60 grams of cho at 7:30 a.m. withput a spike. Rapid acting insulin is great, but it can only do so much.
So this morning when we got the "treats in the lunchroom" e-mail, I had to consciously remind myself that a better choice would be to take 1/2 of a bagel and save it for later in the morning. It worked. And involved only a small compromise.. Hopefully I can practice this enough times for it to become automatic, minus the self-pity.
To the collective bagel community, I apologize for casting you as the villain. Please forgive me.
Happy Independence Day. Enjoy the long weekend, travel safely, and cherish the freedom and opportunity this country affords us.
I work in an office of 90 people. It is an unwritten tradition that people bring treats on their birthday. Usually it's bagels, because Brueggers is nearby and they deliver for free (!!)
If asked the question re which food really plays havoc with my bg, bagels are near the top of the list. Those dang bagels. They always cause me to spike. It's not fair.
But it isn't really the bagsl's fault. A standard Brueggers bagel has over 60 grams of carb. I did not realize this until 10 years ago when I was in the hospital and the dietician was discussing what I usually had for lunch. I told her I brought my lunch to work but on occasion I'd go and get a bagel sandwich. She told me that a B. bagel had four carb exchanges. Yikes.
I am very sensitive to carbs in the morning and sometimes even delay breakfast until about 9 a.m. My ins/carb ratio is 1/5 at the beginning of the day, but by evening I'm at 1/20. Thinking from a logical standpoint, there is no way that I'm going to come through 60 grams of cho at 7:30 a.m. withput a spike. Rapid acting insulin is great, but it can only do so much.
So this morning when we got the "treats in the lunchroom" e-mail, I had to consciously remind myself that a better choice would be to take 1/2 of a bagel and save it for later in the morning. It worked. And involved only a small compromise.. Hopefully I can practice this enough times for it to become automatic, minus the self-pity.
To the collective bagel community, I apologize for casting you as the villain. Please forgive me.
Happy Independence Day. Enjoy the long weekend, travel safely, and cherish the freedom and opportunity this country affords us.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
No Way
I had a bone scan a couple of weeks ago and am going to get the results this week when I go for my pcp appointment. I am already very anxious about yet another test, waiting for results, and maybe having to take yet another pill. No way!
In addition to insulin, I also take oral meds for blood pressure, thyroid, ace inhibitors for my kidneys, antidepressants and sleep meds. As each one of these was added, I felt an immense sense of failure - yet another thing going wrong with an already trashed body. Maybe I'll have to get an extra-large M - S compartmentalized pill box - my current ones barely fit now. I hate it...............
I need to reframe this mindset. Many of my relatives did not make it to the 34 year anniversary, and I have. As we age, we all tend to get "regular-people" stuff. I am convinced that the ace-inhibitors played a big part in returning my kidney function to normal. And, the anti-depressants help me to not run through my days from one crazy woman meltdown to the next. I have already broken an ankle. If I have thinning bones, then another med may protect me from a broken hip, or something worse. I have good insurance to pay for these drugs. So, if necessary, I can do this.
Today while coming home from the grocery store, I dropped my keys on the edge of the sidewalk. There was some really beautiful foliage growing adjacent to it, and after taking a closer look, discovered that they were Lily of the Valley leaves, and that there were tons of perfect little flowers hidden among the leaves. So I picked a few (well, actually, sort of stole them, but I don't think anybody cared) to remind me that as we go through our days, little bits of pleasure are priceless.
>
See Birdie's post dated May 27 for discussion on a similar theme.
Have a great weekend.
In addition to insulin, I also take oral meds for blood pressure, thyroid, ace inhibitors for my kidneys, antidepressants and sleep meds. As each one of these was added, I felt an immense sense of failure - yet another thing going wrong with an already trashed body. Maybe I'll have to get an extra-large M - S compartmentalized pill box - my current ones barely fit now. I hate it...............
I need to reframe this mindset. Many of my relatives did not make it to the 34 year anniversary, and I have. As we age, we all tend to get "regular-people" stuff. I am convinced that the ace-inhibitors played a big part in returning my kidney function to normal. And, the anti-depressants help me to not run through my days from one crazy woman meltdown to the next. I have already broken an ankle. If I have thinning bones, then another med may protect me from a broken hip, or something worse. I have good insurance to pay for these drugs. So, if necessary, I can do this.
Today while coming home from the grocery store, I dropped my keys on the edge of the sidewalk. There was some really beautiful foliage growing adjacent to it, and after taking a closer look, discovered that they were Lily of the Valley leaves, and that there were tons of perfect little flowers hidden among the leaves. So I picked a few (well, actually, sort of stole them, but I don't think anybody cared) to remind me that as we go through our days, little bits of pleasure are priceless.
>
See Birdie's post dated May 27 for discussion on a similar theme.
Have a great weekend.
Friday, May 16, 2008
"10 Things" Meme
Donna, my fellow Lynryd Skynryd and Chicago fan, has tagged me for the "List 10 Weird/Random Facts About Yourself" Meme.
1)My real name is "Kathy", not "Kathleen" or "Katherine". My favorite uncle always called me "Katrina".
2)When I was a little tyke, I used to go ice fishing with my dad. Ice fishing was very well depicted in the "Grumpy Old Men" movies. You sit in a little wood house and drill a hole in the ice and drop your line in. You shouldn't talk as it might scare the fish. Then you drink something hot from a thermos. Then you go and visit the other houses. Finally, your toes are numb and it's time to go home.
3)My favorite fragrance is gardenia.
4)In 1972, when I was in high school, my girlfriends and I took my dad's car (without permission) and drove to St. Cloud (where Milemaster Sarah lives) to see our very first concert. We did not know much, if anything, about the performer, but heck, it was a real true concert. The artist's name was Elton John.
5)Several years ago I worked weekends at a living history farm. It depicted life along the river in the 1800's. I answered questions and told people not touch anything. I wore the full costume, complete with ankle boots, bloomers and a corset under a long sleeved dress with high collar, plus a bonnet. It wasn't too bad until we got into summer - try being enthusiastic about the settlers when every inch of your body is oozing sweat and you can't breath......
6 My next door neighbor has two standard poodles, names "Arthur" and "Guinevere". They are often out walking as I leave for the bus. During the winter, he lets their fur grow shaggy for warmth, and each spring gives them the traditional pom-pom cut. Well, today they had gotten their cuts and were so stuck-up they pretended not know me - prancing around like they were royalty. (I love them anyway.)
7)I do not like the insulin pens - find them much too bulky - I can squeeze a couple of syringes and two vials of insulin into a very small zippered pouch, and that works fine for me.
8)I have a habit of buying way too many birthday cards - probably have a couple hundred. When someone's day is approaching, I lay some of them out on the floor and spend long moments contemplating which one to give. It is such a hoot to find the absolute perfect one, that I may have bought years ago before I even knew that person.
9)Both of my grannies were first generation immigrants - my mom's mother from Denmark, my father's mother from Norway. There was a bit of competitiveness between them regarding traditions and customs, but they both enriched my life beyond measure.
10)About 10 yewars ago, when I was trying to make a difficult decision, I went camping by myself. I chose a big family type campgrounds where I knew there would be lot of people close by. It was the most frightening night of my lfe. My imagination got away from me and I was certain there would be a big sharp knife slashing through my tent, with some psychotic prison escapee reacy to chop me up.
That night of fear helped to put things in order, and when I left I was thinkng clearly about the situation and very confident about what to do next
Any other weirdos out there? If so 'fess up and consider yourself tagged.
Have a great weekend, everyone.
1)My real name is "Kathy", not "Kathleen" or "Katherine". My favorite uncle always called me "Katrina".
2)When I was a little tyke, I used to go ice fishing with my dad. Ice fishing was very well depicted in the "Grumpy Old Men" movies. You sit in a little wood house and drill a hole in the ice and drop your line in. You shouldn't talk as it might scare the fish. Then you drink something hot from a thermos. Then you go and visit the other houses. Finally, your toes are numb and it's time to go home.
3)My favorite fragrance is gardenia.
4)In 1972, when I was in high school, my girlfriends and I took my dad's car (without permission) and drove to St. Cloud (where Milemaster Sarah lives) to see our very first concert. We did not know much, if anything, about the performer, but heck, it was a real true concert. The artist's name was Elton John.
5)Several years ago I worked weekends at a living history farm. It depicted life along the river in the 1800's. I answered questions and told people not touch anything. I wore the full costume, complete with ankle boots, bloomers and a corset under a long sleeved dress with high collar, plus a bonnet. It wasn't too bad until we got into summer - try being enthusiastic about the settlers when every inch of your body is oozing sweat and you can't breath......
6 My next door neighbor has two standard poodles, names "Arthur" and "Guinevere". They are often out walking as I leave for the bus. During the winter, he lets their fur grow shaggy for warmth, and each spring gives them the traditional pom-pom cut. Well, today they had gotten their cuts and were so stuck-up they pretended not know me - prancing around like they were royalty. (I love them anyway.)
7)I do not like the insulin pens - find them much too bulky - I can squeeze a couple of syringes and two vials of insulin into a very small zippered pouch, and that works fine for me.
8)I have a habit of buying way too many birthday cards - probably have a couple hundred. When someone's day is approaching, I lay some of them out on the floor and spend long moments contemplating which one to give. It is such a hoot to find the absolute perfect one, that I may have bought years ago before I even knew that person.
9)Both of my grannies were first generation immigrants - my mom's mother from Denmark, my father's mother from Norway. There was a bit of competitiveness between them regarding traditions and customs, but they both enriched my life beyond measure.
10)About 10 yewars ago, when I was trying to make a difficult decision, I went camping by myself. I chose a big family type campgrounds where I knew there would be lot of people close by. It was the most frightening night of my lfe. My imagination got away from me and I was certain there would be a big sharp knife slashing through my tent, with some psychotic prison escapee reacy to chop me up.
That night of fear helped to put things in order, and when I left I was thinkng clearly about the situation and very confident about what to do next
Any other weirdos out there? If so 'fess up and consider yourself tagged.
Have a great weekend, everyone.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Five Things................
I’ve been tagged by BetterCell for the .
"Five Things You Can't Learn From A Book" meme.
I would strongly agree with everything said by those who have already posted - great wisdom and insight. Thank you all. Here are my 5 to add:
1) Complications do not make you a failure. I have dealt with retinopathy, frozen shoulders and a trigger finger. It would be really tempting to blame myself. Yes, I had long periods of time when I didn’t take care of myself. Part of it was lack of the proper tools in the early years; part was my long-standing depression; part was the fact that I had witnessed several relatives die from db and I didn’t think that I had a fighting chance, no matter what. I currently try to keep in mind that all of us living with db face a big job, every day, and we all put forth a noble effort, depending on our circumstances. I am proud of that.
2) It is never too late for improved control. Just start where you are and move forward.
3) If you come to a place where you need oral meds, such as for hypertension, it’s okay. Several people have blogged about being upset when they had to start “yet another” prescription in addition to insulin. Be thankful that there are drugs available to help with a variety of ailments.
4) Question authority - that means doctors, nurses, pharmacists, CDE’s, psychiatrists, psychologists, etc. Just last month my pharmacy switched to a new supplier for synthyroid. When I got home with my prescription, I noticed that the pills were a different color and different shape. I called them and the pharmacist, who I’ve known for years, said, “gosh, Kathy, we dispense a ton of this and you are the only one who asked…….”
5) Laugh when you can.
Cry when you have to.
Happy Mother’s Day!!!
"Five Things You Can't Learn From A Book" meme.
I would strongly agree with everything said by those who have already posted - great wisdom and insight. Thank you all. Here are my 5 to add:
1) Complications do not make you a failure. I have dealt with retinopathy, frozen shoulders and a trigger finger. It would be really tempting to blame myself. Yes, I had long periods of time when I didn’t take care of myself. Part of it was lack of the proper tools in the early years; part was my long-standing depression; part was the fact that I had witnessed several relatives die from db and I didn’t think that I had a fighting chance, no matter what. I currently try to keep in mind that all of us living with db face a big job, every day, and we all put forth a noble effort, depending on our circumstances. I am proud of that.
2) It is never too late for improved control. Just start where you are and move forward.
3) If you come to a place where you need oral meds, such as for hypertension, it’s okay. Several people have blogged about being upset when they had to start “yet another” prescription in addition to insulin. Be thankful that there are drugs available to help with a variety of ailments.
4) Question authority - that means doctors, nurses, pharmacists, CDE’s, psychiatrists, psychologists, etc. Just last month my pharmacy switched to a new supplier for synthyroid. When I got home with my prescription, I noticed that the pills were a different color and different shape. I called them and the pharmacist, who I’ve known for years, said, “gosh, Kathy, we dispense a ton of this and you are the only one who asked…….”
5) Laugh when you can.
Cry when you have to.
Happy Mother’s Day!!!
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Sussy Epilogue
A couple of months ago several db bloggers participated in the first certifiably cool and awesome Sussy Circle.
My sussy was Amalas, who sent me some lovely yarn
Here is what I made.
No, it is not a wall hanging. It is a scarf/mini shawl.
Since I only finished it a day ago, it will be new and fresh for next winter. As I carefully folded it to be put away, I thought of all of my db blogging friends, of my love of the craft, and of the many, many days of warmth and sunshine that will come my way before next winter.
Enjoy the season of hope and renewal. Happy Spring.
My sussy was Amalas, who sent me some lovely yarn
Here is what I made.
No, it is not a wall hanging. It is a scarf/mini shawl.
Since I only finished it a day ago, it will be new and fresh for next winter. As I carefully folded it to be put away, I thought of all of my db blogging friends, of my love of the craft, and of the many, many days of warmth and sunshine that will come my way before next winter.
Enjoy the season of hope and renewal. Happy Spring.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Meme
SuperGeorge, also known as "skinny", has tagged me for the Six Word Meme.
Since the rules have already been printed a b'zillion times, I'm going to skip them here.
I tag: Molly, Log Cabin Heidi, BetterCell, Lili, Zazzy
I trust life (between the lines).
Since the rules have already been printed a b'zillion times, I'm going to skip them here.
I tag: Molly, Log Cabin Heidi, BetterCell, Lili, Zazzy
Monday, March 17, 2008
Mom (and Me) Update
Landileigh left a message on my last post wondering how everything was. I guess it's rather rude to describe an upset in one's life and then not keep everyone advised as to how things are going.
My mother made it back to our hometown and was placed in a skilled nursing facility. Three days later we got a call saying that she was retaining a lot of fluid and might have to be rehospitalized - another "wait and see" situation. It resolved with an increase in the diuretic pill. My sister, niece and I went to see her that weekend and I was shocked to see that she was in a wheelchair. I tried hard not to cry. I spoke with the charge nurse and she said "well, most of the residents here are in wheelchairs - we just don't have the time to get them walking".
Can you imagine how hard it was not to bop that woman upside the head? Mom had obviously weakened since she was in the hospital here in Minneapolis. That Monday, when the nursing supervisor was back on duty, I called and told her that we wanted her in physical therapy immediately. She asked if she was able to walk before the crisis and I told her yes, she walked quite well. I guess nobody had documented it and they assumed she couldn't.
So now they have determined that she can transfer to the "intermediate" facility, which are small studio apartments with your own furniture. She will eat all meals in the dining room, but can also have a microwave and little refrigerator in her room. We are planning to do that move weekend after next.
She wants to talk about her funeral. I was willing to do this, but my sister said "don't put her in the grave before she's dead!" and stormed out of the room.
Yup, emotions are running high between all of us. My sisters are twins, 7 years younger than me and we at times don't communicate very well. It takes tact and patience.
I still have the crud, plus a urinary tract infection, so have been on nonstop antibiotics for a month. The doc said the respiratory thing "has a tail on it" and I could expect to be coughing for several weeks. "Ordinary people illness" is double crummy on top of db.
Our branch audit by the New York Stock Exchange was a great success. Now it's just the stock market in general that's not doing so good.
I want to tell you ALL how very touched I was by your comments - wnat a beautifully supportive community. I had a session with the family therapist that I've been seeing since M became ill and told him about the OC and TuDiabetes. He said, "do you mind if I write those websites down? I have several patients that might benefit from something like that."
Of course, I gave him the addresses. Embrace the good and pass it on.
Happy St. Patrick's Day everybody.
My mother made it back to our hometown and was placed in a skilled nursing facility. Three days later we got a call saying that she was retaining a lot of fluid and might have to be rehospitalized - another "wait and see" situation. It resolved with an increase in the diuretic pill. My sister, niece and I went to see her that weekend and I was shocked to see that she was in a wheelchair. I tried hard not to cry. I spoke with the charge nurse and she said "well, most of the residents here are in wheelchairs - we just don't have the time to get them walking".
Can you imagine how hard it was not to bop that woman upside the head? Mom had obviously weakened since she was in the hospital here in Minneapolis. That Monday, when the nursing supervisor was back on duty, I called and told her that we wanted her in physical therapy immediately. She asked if she was able to walk before the crisis and I told her yes, she walked quite well. I guess nobody had documented it and they assumed she couldn't.
So now they have determined that she can transfer to the "intermediate" facility, which are small studio apartments with your own furniture. She will eat all meals in the dining room, but can also have a microwave and little refrigerator in her room. We are planning to do that move weekend after next.
She wants to talk about her funeral. I was willing to do this, but my sister said "don't put her in the grave before she's dead!" and stormed out of the room.
Yup, emotions are running high between all of us. My sisters are twins, 7 years younger than me and we at times don't communicate very well. It takes tact and patience.
I still have the crud, plus a urinary tract infection, so have been on nonstop antibiotics for a month. The doc said the respiratory thing "has a tail on it" and I could expect to be coughing for several weeks. "Ordinary people illness" is double crummy on top of db.
Our branch audit by the New York Stock Exchange was a great success. Now it's just the stock market in general that's not doing so good.
I want to tell you ALL how very touched I was by your comments - wnat a beautifully supportive community. I had a session with the family therapist that I've been seeing since M became ill and told him about the OC and TuDiabetes. He said, "do you mind if I write those websites down? I have several patients that might benefit from something like that."
Of course, I gave him the addresses. Embrace the good and pass it on.
Happy St. Patrick's Day everybody.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
The Many Layers of the Black Umbrella
The last couple of weeks have brought a lot of junk into my life - like a big black umbrella blocking out the sun.
Several days ago my sister phoned me to say that my 80 year old mother was being helicoptered to a major hospital in Minneapolis from her small town in central Minnesota. She has been struggling with both emphysema and heart failure and her condition was serious.
I raced over from work and found her on the cardiac floor, hooked up to tubes and machines but still smiling and saying she was glad to see me. I spent the night in a recliner in her room, getting up every so often to pace the halls because my restless leg syndrome was acting up. The next day the woman who helps her with housekeeping said she'd found 11 days worth of untaken meds shoved in a drawer. The doctors concluded that the episode was brought on by noncompliance with her diuretic, which helps control the buildup of fluid. I asked her about this and she said she was sure she'd taken all of her meds.
They got her through the physical crisis and suggested an evaluation for cognitive function. Even though I knew that she was failing mentally, I heard myself tellng the social worker that I didn't think it was necessary. (Yeah, Kathy, just refuse to face it and maybe it'll go away.)
The day of the evaluation I woke up with a raging sore throat and fever. I went to the Minute Clinic in Target and was given some Zithromax and told that I absolutely could not visit anyone in the hospital until my fever had been gone for 2 days.
As I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I started to feel these great waves of fear and sadness - thinking about her death and also my death (maybe from diabetes) and what lay between. I microwaved a Lean Cuisine but forgot to take any insulin, and later in the day my bg was 470. I corrected, but really didn't care. I was sinking deep into the "life is hard and then gets harder" mindset.
My mom's evaluation determined that she has "moderate dementia" and cannot live alone primarily due to the possibility of medication error. She also will not be driving anymore. My other sister had driven to M's home and found a large array of unpaid bills strewn about, and a frig full of old food. Two more days and her utilities would have been shut off. She had fooled us, always saying everything was "ok".
She transfered to a full care facility in her town this last Mondayand will remain there until an apartment becomes available in the assisited living wing. I did not get to see her because I am still not well. I went to my internist and he said "well, your lungs sound good - I guess you'll just have to wait it out". Last night I was coughing so hard my neighbor above me came down to see what was going on. After I shut the door I started crying, asking why everything has to happen all at once.
Now this afternoon I got an email that I have to be at work tomorrow because my company was visited with a surprise audit from the New York Stock Exchange, something which happens about every 10 years.
I am ready to blow a gasket. I am not good at dealing with multiple stressors. If anyone has any magic tips, do tell.
Several days ago my sister phoned me to say that my 80 year old mother was being helicoptered to a major hospital in Minneapolis from her small town in central Minnesota. She has been struggling with both emphysema and heart failure and her condition was serious.
I raced over from work and found her on the cardiac floor, hooked up to tubes and machines but still smiling and saying she was glad to see me. I spent the night in a recliner in her room, getting up every so often to pace the halls because my restless leg syndrome was acting up. The next day the woman who helps her with housekeeping said she'd found 11 days worth of untaken meds shoved in a drawer. The doctors concluded that the episode was brought on by noncompliance with her diuretic, which helps control the buildup of fluid. I asked her about this and she said she was sure she'd taken all of her meds.
They got her through the physical crisis and suggested an evaluation for cognitive function. Even though I knew that she was failing mentally, I heard myself tellng the social worker that I didn't think it was necessary. (Yeah, Kathy, just refuse to face it and maybe it'll go away.)
The day of the evaluation I woke up with a raging sore throat and fever. I went to the Minute Clinic in Target and was given some Zithromax and told that I absolutely could not visit anyone in the hospital until my fever had been gone for 2 days.
As I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I started to feel these great waves of fear and sadness - thinking about her death and also my death (maybe from diabetes) and what lay between. I microwaved a Lean Cuisine but forgot to take any insulin, and later in the day my bg was 470. I corrected, but really didn't care. I was sinking deep into the "life is hard and then gets harder" mindset.
My mom's evaluation determined that she has "moderate dementia" and cannot live alone primarily due to the possibility of medication error. She also will not be driving anymore. My other sister had driven to M's home and found a large array of unpaid bills strewn about, and a frig full of old food. Two more days and her utilities would have been shut off. She had fooled us, always saying everything was "ok".
She transfered to a full care facility in her town this last Mondayand will remain there until an apartment becomes available in the assisited living wing. I did not get to see her because I am still not well. I went to my internist and he said "well, your lungs sound good - I guess you'll just have to wait it out". Last night I was coughing so hard my neighbor above me came down to see what was going on. After I shut the door I started crying, asking why everything has to happen all at once.
Now this afternoon I got an email that I have to be at work tomorrow because my company was visited with a surprise audit from the New York Stock Exchange, something which happens about every 10 years.
I am ready to blow a gasket. I am not good at dealing with multiple stressors. If anyone has any magic tips, do tell.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
A Wonderful Sussy Came My Way!
Last night I came home from work and my sussy had arrived. The box felt very light and made no sound as I shook it. I also did not recognize the sender's name and could make no connection with the return address...................hmmmmmmm......
Of course, I opened it without taking my coat off. I had said my favorite color was vibrant blue and that I collected beads and yarn. I was impressed to open the box and see beautiful blue tissue paper. Inside the tissue was a lovely cloth bag, also in blue, with something soft and squishy in it.
At the ends of the drawstrings which closed the bag were two little blue beads wrapped in wire.
I opened the bag and it contained two skeins of luxurious yarn - Peruvian alpaca/wool by Cascade Yarns and kettle dyed merino yarn by Malabrigo. Mercy - this person must be a crafter herself, for she knows her stuff! (Aplaca is yarn made from llama fur; merino is from a particular kind of sheep, known for its softness.)
The gears in my head were already cranking with ideas for what I would make from it.
After taking off my coat, I folded the bag up neatly. But wait, there was something else in it. Beads. Blue beads. Beautiful blue beads.
>
My sussy is Amalas, over at Plastic Pancreas. We have not met, but I am hoping to have a very interesting and talented new friend. Thank you, Amalas, for the thoughtfully chosen sussy. I will be sure to put up a pic of whatever I decide to make with the yarn.
And super thanks to the soul-sisters,Amylia and Beth for organizing this very fun activity.
Of course, I opened it without taking my coat off. I had said my favorite color was vibrant blue and that I collected beads and yarn. I was impressed to open the box and see beautiful blue tissue paper. Inside the tissue was a lovely cloth bag, also in blue, with something soft and squishy in it.
At the ends of the drawstrings which closed the bag were two little blue beads wrapped in wire.
I opened the bag and it contained two skeins of luxurious yarn - Peruvian alpaca/wool by Cascade Yarns and kettle dyed merino yarn by Malabrigo. Mercy - this person must be a crafter herself, for she knows her stuff! (Aplaca is yarn made from llama fur; merino is from a particular kind of sheep, known for its softness.)
The gears in my head were already cranking with ideas for what I would make from it.
After taking off my coat, I folded the bag up neatly. But wait, there was something else in it. Beads. Blue beads. Beautiful blue beads.
>
My sussy is Amalas, over at Plastic Pancreas. We have not met, but I am hoping to have a very interesting and talented new friend. Thank you, Amalas, for the thoughtfully chosen sussy. I will be sure to put up a pic of whatever I decide to make with the yarn.
And super thanks to the soul-sisters,Amylia and Beth for organizing this very fun activity.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
A Poorly Timed Vacation
I had my big annual bloodwork done at the beginning of December. Thankfully,, the numbers were all ok, and, as usual, I had been fretting about it for weeks before.
This was on a Thursday, and I decided that as a little reward, I would take a short "vacation" from diabetes - Friday through Sunday - three days. There would be no logging, no middle of the night testing, and no carb counting/dose calculating. I would of course continue with my insulin but lower my testing from 7 to 4 imes per day. BAD IDEA.....................
A month has now gone by and I am not back on the wagon yet. In fact, this slacking has taken on a momentum of its own and the longer it continues the more effort it will take to reverse it. I know that. Yet I continue.
I am now down to testing 2 times per day - at 5 am and 10 pm. I have not logged in over a month. This is my most major lapse in over 6 years and I feel terrible about it - shameful that I, as an adult, can't make the proper choices to support my health. Why am I acting like a fool? I blame it on holiday stress (well, sister, the holidays are now over), the greyness of winter, db burnout and a deeply set sense of apathy. And perhaps a "I am mad as hell and not gonna take this anymore" mindset. I am acting out my passive-aggressive anger toward diabetes by not acknowledging it as an overriding force in my body.
Sure, there are cycles to the depth of our self-care and coping. Some days are better than others.
Here is my grandmother tree, just standing patiently through the endless seige of grey and cold, trusting that the days will get longer and soon the tiny green buds will appear, ready to begin a new growing cycle.
But it is not in my best interest to wait, to keep thinking that I'll simply wake up one morning and be ready to resume "the grind", as Chrissie calls it.
I received a calendar for Christmas. This is the January page.
When I put the calendar up on New Year's Day, I thought this was a lovely phrase to focus on for the New Year. Yet, "dwell" also suggests to me a sense of being stuck - apathetic, complacent, unwilling to initiate movement. This isn't gonna work in my situation. Sure, I can recognize the possibility that a) I have successfully taken good care of the db for long periods of time and I can do it again; b) there is help available to me if I want it and c) I can shift my focus from deprivation to responsiblity. I can't afford to "dwell" anymore - gotta get going in the right direction.
I don't think db vacations are such a good idea for me. I should have gone and had a massage instead.
I hope everyone's New Year is off to a great start, and may it continue
This was on a Thursday, and I decided that as a little reward, I would take a short "vacation" from diabetes - Friday through Sunday - three days. There would be no logging, no middle of the night testing, and no carb counting/dose calculating. I would of course continue with my insulin but lower my testing from 7 to 4 imes per day. BAD IDEA.....................
A month has now gone by and I am not back on the wagon yet. In fact, this slacking has taken on a momentum of its own and the longer it continues the more effort it will take to reverse it. I know that. Yet I continue.
I am now down to testing 2 times per day - at 5 am and 10 pm. I have not logged in over a month. This is my most major lapse in over 6 years and I feel terrible about it - shameful that I, as an adult, can't make the proper choices to support my health. Why am I acting like a fool? I blame it on holiday stress (well, sister, the holidays are now over), the greyness of winter, db burnout and a deeply set sense of apathy. And perhaps a "I am mad as hell and not gonna take this anymore" mindset. I am acting out my passive-aggressive anger toward diabetes by not acknowledging it as an overriding force in my body.
Sure, there are cycles to the depth of our self-care and coping. Some days are better than others.
Here is my grandmother tree, just standing patiently through the endless seige of grey and cold, trusting that the days will get longer and soon the tiny green buds will appear, ready to begin a new growing cycle.
But it is not in my best interest to wait, to keep thinking that I'll simply wake up one morning and be ready to resume "the grind", as Chrissie calls it.
I received a calendar for Christmas. This is the January page.
When I put the calendar up on New Year's Day, I thought this was a lovely phrase to focus on for the New Year. Yet, "dwell" also suggests to me a sense of being stuck - apathetic, complacent, unwilling to initiate movement. This isn't gonna work in my situation. Sure, I can recognize the possibility that a) I have successfully taken good care of the db for long periods of time and I can do it again; b) there is help available to me if I want it and c) I can shift my focus from deprivation to responsiblity. I can't afford to "dwell" anymore - gotta get going in the right direction.
I don't think db vacations are such a good idea for me. I should have gone and had a massage instead.
I hope everyone's New Year is off to a great start, and may it continue
Friday, December 07, 2007
Mystery Hypo (or Senior Moment).......
This is one of my many hypo stashes. I use the baby juices because each bottle has 14 gm cho, they taste ok, and they are not something seductive that I would be tempted to binge on. I only use them when I'm starting to get low. If I'm below 50 the plastic cap is hard to open and the inner safefy seal impossible.
Last night I tested at 1:30 am and was at 88 - a very good place to be. Then, two hours later, I woke up and knew I had crashed. Meter read 37. I treated, went back to sleep and woke up feeling a little drained and rebounding at 250.
When I got home this evening, I was startled to open the refrigerator door and see three empty juice bottles on the door shelf. WTF?
Obviously I had consumed them last night and not remembered it. This is sort of freaky.
After all, I remember the hypo. I even documented it on my logsheet.
But I do not recall retrieving the jars from the cupboard. How on earth did I open all three? And why did I put the empty ones in the frig? It is sort of funny, but it also makes me uneasy. I live alone. Have I been doing other things that I have no memory of?
I fret a lot about my db - sometimes over rational things and other times over irrational things. It's hard to know where to put this new little worry monster. Maybe I'll just leave it in the frig with those empty bottles.
Have a good weekend, everybody - colder than blazes here, with 10" of snow. If this is an indication of what winter's going to be like, consider me in hibernation.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Tagged
I've been tagged by Amylia, Chrissie, Drea and Heidi.
Seven Random Facts About Me:
1) My paternal granny always dreamt about losing her purse (a big old purse containing cloth hankies and horehound lozenges). About five years ago, I also started dreaming about losing my purse. But, I find them!
2) In high school I was treasurer of the Taxidermy Club. Yes, we were pretty bored during those long Minnesota winters. I had to collect the money so the adviser could order the glass eyes for the animals (mostly road kill). It was a very cool club to belong to. No, I'm not kidding.
3) My favorite romantic song is "Tupelo Honey" by Van Morrison.
4) In college I embroidered an elaborate tapestry of Bob Dylan's silhouette. I later found out that my mother had sold it at a garage sale for a dime.
5) I inherited a banjo from my uncle. I took lessons for 5 months. I have since done much better on other instruments.
6) I am attracted to Aires men - always, without fail.
7) My middle name is "Joy". My father always called me "Rose".
If there is anybody else out there who wants to participate, please consider yourself tagged.
Thanks, everybody. I really enjoyed reading all the posts. This was a very fun way to start the holiday.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Seven Random Facts About Me:
1) My paternal granny always dreamt about losing her purse (a big old purse containing cloth hankies and horehound lozenges). About five years ago, I also started dreaming about losing my purse. But, I find them!
2) In high school I was treasurer of the Taxidermy Club. Yes, we were pretty bored during those long Minnesota winters. I had to collect the money so the adviser could order the glass eyes for the animals (mostly road kill). It was a very cool club to belong to. No, I'm not kidding.
3) My favorite romantic song is "Tupelo Honey" by Van Morrison.
4) In college I embroidered an elaborate tapestry of Bob Dylan's silhouette. I later found out that my mother had sold it at a garage sale for a dime.
5) I inherited a banjo from my uncle. I took lessons for 5 months. I have since done much better on other instruments.
6) I am attracted to Aires men - always, without fail.
7) My middle name is "Joy". My father always called me "Rose".
If there is anybody else out there who wants to participate, please consider yourself tagged.
Thanks, everybody. I really enjoyed reading all the posts. This was a very fun way to start the holiday.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Friday, November 09, 2007
D Blog Day
Oh mercy. I was fooling around trying to see how pictures would look for a knitting blog (not a good choice for those with time limitations) and put this one up instead of the one showing my hands at the computer keyboard. I guess I'll leave it, as I expect I have a weekend's worth of blogs to read.
A whole year as fled by since D Blog Day 2006. Not much has changed on the diabetes front for me. Yup, I still have it. Nope, it did not magically disappear. Thankfully, my health remains reasonable after 33 years of navigating the rocky-choppy db waters.
I often feel like I'm a big impostor - that I pretend that living with diabetes is easy and no big deal. I put on my smiley face and go through the motions of living as if nothing were bothering me. Who is asking me to do that? Nobody, really. It is a choice because sometimes the pretending is my only salvation.
I have many Type 1 relatives. One person died earlier
this year of multiple organ failute, and one was recently put on a kidney/pancreas transplant waiting list. This is reality - upfront and personal. The pretending is a necessary break from the choking burden of fear and apprehension.
But, there are other realities to my life besides diabetes.
I left home at 5:50 this morning, and, there it was - that indescribably, pre-sunrise shade of blue that fills the sky this time of year. I wanted to stand on the street and let it soak into my bones The contrast of yellow autumn leaves against that sky was stunning. One of my neighbors was also headed to the bus stop and we walked the last block together, debating whether that lone twinkle above us was Venus or not. Those 10 minutes were not pretend; they were not Pollyanna - they were real, true pleasure. As authentic as it gets. And I was able to accept this as the quintessential warm fuzzy starting my day.
Blogging about db has taught me that we each are as different as we are alike; that there are may ways to tackle a problem; that numbers are only information and don't need to be tizzed over; that transitioning to a pump is not particularly difficult; that challenging emotions don't last forever; and, that change is constant. I've learned that people of all ages have the strength and courage to adapt to new situations, such as this determined mother who is trailblazing new paths for her small children.
Diabetes aside, because I blog I have learned about henna body art, I now know what a curly coated retrievor is ("woof" to Skye), and how smart and perceptive service dogs are ("woof" to Ms. Dixie). I have received personal instructions on how to properly prepare acorn squash, and a kind offer of a bodyguard should I get the urge to scrounge the riverbottom for driftwood.
I don't like living with diabetes. I don't feel it's made me a better person. I continue to work toward acceptance and balance and use my What Helps?
list on days when coping seems impossible.
But, still, I allowed my heart to open when I read about the arrival of Baby L, Pepito, Izzie, Ian and Eleanor, and the forthcoming Baby Bonilla. These dear sweet babies are the fullfilment of the promise - that life is essentialy good, that hope is real, and that we will continue.
Happy D. Blog Day!
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Hands
The
Tu Diabetes Word in Your Hand project struck me with a lot to comtemplate. After all, my hands are very important to me - my handcrafts and music are a mainstay in my life. My practice of tai chi introduced me to a greater awareness of my hands and the way energy moves through the body. And, many years ago, in what seems like another lifetime, I was trained as a massage therapist.
And then, of course, we have multiple contacts with our hands each day as we lance our fingers to get information which is vital to our health.
I spent the first two decades of my life with db paralyzed by fear. I made few decisions, refused to plan for the future and did not participate in basic "life navigating" because I thought I'd soon be dead.
When we sit back in a dark corner with our hand in a fist, we are angry and defensive - prepared to battle imaginary demons. A closed hand represents stagnation and being unreceptive to people, opportunities and kindness.
The simple act of opening our hand indicates that we are ready to receive - warmth, healing, understanding, and support. To walk through our days with hands outstretched means that we trust that the right things will come to us at the right moment, that we can handle whatver the future brings, and that we are ready to grab those fleeting bits of joy that float through our life, one by one.
Let's all put our hands together and give ourselves a big round of applause - for we are capable, determined, intelligent and wise. For we live with diabetes.
Tu Diabetes Word in Your Hand project struck me with a lot to comtemplate. After all, my hands are very important to me - my handcrafts and music are a mainstay in my life. My practice of tai chi introduced me to a greater awareness of my hands and the way energy moves through the body. And, many years ago, in what seems like another lifetime, I was trained as a massage therapist.
And then, of course, we have multiple contacts with our hands each day as we lance our fingers to get information which is vital to our health.
I spent the first two decades of my life with db paralyzed by fear. I made few decisions, refused to plan for the future and did not participate in basic "life navigating" because I thought I'd soon be dead.
When we sit back in a dark corner with our hand in a fist, we are angry and defensive - prepared to battle imaginary demons. A closed hand represents stagnation and being unreceptive to people, opportunities and kindness.
The simple act of opening our hand indicates that we are ready to receive - warmth, healing, understanding, and support. To walk through our days with hands outstretched means that we trust that the right things will come to us at the right moment, that we can handle whatver the future brings, and that we are ready to grab those fleeting bits of joy that float through our life, one by one.
Let's all put our hands together and give ourselves a big round of applause - for we are capable, determined, intelligent and wise. For we live with diabetes.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
More Fame
A couple of months ago I posted about articles in Diabetes Self-Management by Allison
and Kassie.
Well, a new issue arrived yesterday, and yet another blogger, Michko, had contributed an article - "Plannng Ahead for Sick Days" (page 16).
Check it out. I get a big kick out of seeing someone I know on the printed page. The power of the blogsphere.
Have a good week ahead, everybody.
and Kassie.
Well, a new issue arrived yesterday, and yet another blogger, Michko, had contributed an article - "Plannng Ahead for Sick Days" (page 16).
Check it out. I get a big kick out of seeing someone I know on the printed page. The power of the blogsphere.
Have a good week ahead, everybody.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Talking Stick
Last night I had a very fun time in the Tu Diabetes chat room with some delightful people.
We were talking about art and my beadwork and Beth asked if I’d ever done any beading on wood. I said yes, I had made a talking stick.
Several years ago I worked at a center for troubled youth, many of which were Native Americans. We decided to adopt some traditional rituals and use them as tools for healing. One of them was the talking stick.
Any type of group of people can use a talking stick - whether you are discussing a topic, trying to come to a decision, sharing victories and defeats, offering support - the list is endless. The one rule is that the person holding the stick is the only one speaking - no interruptions. When he is finished, he passes it to the next person. It was a great tool for shy people (of which I still am). Somehow, just holding the stick gives one the courage to speak their mind. It was empowering.
I have been blogging for over a year now, and feel that both the Diabetes OC and Tu Diabetes have given me the courage to put my thoughts down on paper. I was really “stopped up” for many years - just kept stuffing things as deep as I could get them. This certainly was not healthy.
Things are different now. I have friends who understand me. I have people across the country (and the world) that I care about. We are bound by the fact that we have diabetes, but also connected in our vision to take care of our health, keep up on new developments, nurture a positive attitude, problem solve, and live a vibrant and fulfilling existence. This has had a big impact on my life, and I say “thank you”. (sniffle, sniffle).
Anyway, about the stick - I love the Mississippi. I could sit on the shore for hours and watch the clouds go by and think of how the settlers came upstream by riverboat and how Minneapolis was once called The Mill City because all the big barges of grain came up the river to be processed. Cool.
The wood for the stick was found along the river’s edge. It had been polished by the current (somewhat like driftwood). I have stopped going down to the spot where the driftwood accumulates because it is isolated and I am no longer young enough to outrun someone with harmful intentions.
But, the wood still reminds me of the grounded stability of the river and the current that keeps moving forward, as it has for centuries.
Life transports us onward, whether we are willing or not. I spent many years paddling upstream. It was exhausting and got me nowhere. By being a part of two blogging communities, I have given myself permission to flow with the bitter and the sweet, and stay upright in the process.
This is good.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
A Change in Perspective
Here is my Grandmother Tree, in her summer finery, overseeing the neighborhood last week.
And, here she is this weekend. Yes, that's a mini donut stand at her base.
My neighborhood has once again been invaded by the Uptown Art Fair, a gathering right outside my window (and extending for several blocks). It takes place the first weekend of August and lasts three days. We have to have our cars moved (mine is 8 blocks away) by Thursday night and I won't retrieve mine until after work tomorrow. People sit on the lawn right outside my window and eat corndogs and yell at their kids. I feel sort of trapped and claustrophobic and can't wait for it to be over. I love to complain about it.
But, as most of you know, we had a tragic event here last week, with the bridge collapsing. I really want to express by deepest thanks to all my online friends
for their messages of concern. I was very moved by the sincerity and compassion.
Yesterday we also had a small party for my mother's 80th birthday. Her health continues to decline and it was a very poignant gathering. She and my youngest niece were looking at photo albums and I was reminded that the wheel of life keeps turning for each of us.
So, upon returning home last night, I began to think that having my tranquility disrupted every summer by the Art Fair really wasn't such a big deal. In fact, it was nothing at all but a celebraton of summer, families, talent, and community festivities. If I tried hard enough, I might even find something to like about it.
So, this morning, the last day, I headed out early and chatted with some of the artists, wish them a good show, flowed with the crowd, and sat on the grass and people-watched.................and, concluded that I would miss it if it didn't take place.
We pick our own battles. And I believe this one has been crossed off my list
And, here she is this weekend. Yes, that's a mini donut stand at her base.
My neighborhood has once again been invaded by the Uptown Art Fair, a gathering right outside my window (and extending for several blocks). It takes place the first weekend of August and lasts three days. We have to have our cars moved (mine is 8 blocks away) by Thursday night and I won't retrieve mine until after work tomorrow. People sit on the lawn right outside my window and eat corndogs and yell at their kids. I feel sort of trapped and claustrophobic and can't wait for it to be over. I love to complain about it.
But, as most of you know, we had a tragic event here last week, with the bridge collapsing. I really want to express by deepest thanks to all my online friends
for their messages of concern. I was very moved by the sincerity and compassion.
Yesterday we also had a small party for my mother's 80th birthday. Her health continues to decline and it was a very poignant gathering. She and my youngest niece were looking at photo albums and I was reminded that the wheel of life keeps turning for each of us.
So, upon returning home last night, I began to think that having my tranquility disrupted every summer by the Art Fair really wasn't such a big deal. In fact, it was nothing at all but a celebraton of summer, families, talent, and community festivities. If I tried hard enough, I might even find something to like about it.
So, this morning, the last day, I headed out early and chatted with some of the artists, wish them a good show, flowed with the crowd, and sat on the grass and people-watched.................and, concluded that I would miss it if it didn't take place.
We pick our own battles. And I believe this one has been crossed off my list
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