Insurance Woes

I'm feeling much better today, after worrying all weekend over a huge and inaccurate bill I received from Animas. It seems after the pump bill was sent and paid by my insurance provider, Animas has decided to go after a new contract rate. Friday, I received a bill for a large part of it. Now it's being straightened out, and I'm pretty sure my insurance will stick to their guns, but just the thought of all that extra money has made my stomach do somersaults.

In general, I seem to have a sensitive panic button. That really bothers me. Even knowing there was nothing I could do over the weekend, that I knew it was probably a huge mistake, and that worrying was doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but making me ill, I still focused on the worst possible scenarios. I can't stand that I do that.

I can tell myself that it keeps me from ever being disappointed or even surprised, but that's not really true. I think maybe, not having complete control is almost intolerable. It seems preparing for all possibilities, even the worst, gives me the feeling of control. An instant way to reclaim order and prepare. In the mean time, I'm sure it detracts me from enjoying the time in between, and is taking years off my life via stress.

Diabetes has certainly left me feeling vulnerable and insecure at times (too often). Especially when I think about money, insurance, and the fact that I will be dependent on these for the rest of my life. Being at the hands of other people to help control/manage my health is humbling and sobering. I've never had much need to become familiar with doctors & specialists. I've had little experience with dealing with insurance companies and things like coverage. That is until diabetes arrived.

Just two weeks ago, I had to spend over 2 hours on the phone with my insurance company, when a computer glitch caused my insulin to be denied. MY INSULIN. MY LIFE. That's pretty scary if you simply don't have the money to pay full price. (I did find out that they covered CGM at 100%, so not a completely bad call)

It's so hard to find a balance between preparedness, and pessimism. I've spent most of the day feeling silly for the anger and worry, that my friends were talking me down from on Friday. I'm sure as time goes on, I will be a pro at handling all the bumps in the road that come from diabetes. But I wish I didn't have to. I wish no one had to. maybe one day...

250.03

WARNING:
The following post may be long and rambly!

I firmly believe the mind and body respond in ways that are completely entwined in our psyche. I think I now realize why fear grasps me, before I see this particular doctor.

Yesterday, I enter an extremely crowded waiting room, where the man at the front counter next to me makes a terrible joke. The receptionist tells him politely that Dr. A is very behind in his schedule. The man replies, "So does that make his Indian name, Running Late?" I think, he has to be nervous too!

I finally got back into a room, and the nurse takes my dreaded blood pressure. I hold my breath, and the automatic blood pressure machine breaks, while it is trying to inflate. I hear a retching sound next door, when someone grabbed my nurse and stole her away, while trying to get me out of the cuff. "He's throwing up, HELP ME!" another nurse yells and the commotion in the hall escalates.

I sat there, watching my arm turn blue, as I'm trying to restore circulation, and it hit me. The reason WHY I hate this office so much. I flashed back to sitting in the busy waiting room, engaged in my habit of people watching. Two amputees, one apparently fresh, with all of the billowy white wrapped around what's left of his leg. One blind woman was accompanied by her daughter, as well as many older couples with plastic bags filled up completely with medications. Then there's me. In heels, dressed for work, looking much younger than my age, and feeling quite well. I'm sick, but not. That could end up being me. I don't belong here. Suddenly, I wanted to tap my heels 3 times, and pray it will take me home, like Dorothy.

Then the nurse came back. This time, she manually took my blood pressure, and pricked my finger. 5.4.3.2.1..246. Crap! Not how I wanted to start this. She weighed me, made notes and rushed out of the room. Right behind her, a strange doctor entered, and he did not bother to introduce himself. He was curt, got the facts and exited. Then he quickly came back in with my doctor. Interns. Rotations must have just begun, because their was an intern at my last weeks DR.'s visit too.

I won't detail the entire visit, but I have to note that my doctor took way longer than 15 minutes with me, and even with his busy day was pretty jovial. I wonder if that was for the benefit of the intern. Call me a cynic. I did not ask about the pump and I totally chickened out. I was showing him my bruises on the back of my arm, and complaining about the shots, when I was quickly scolded about shot placement. "Why aren't you using you stomach or hips? You don't have enough F. A. T., and therefore don't get good absorption there." What? Totally caught off guard, and a little defensive, any good approach of a pump was forgotten.

Basically, he changed my insulin ratios, and I have to relive the torture in a month. Not what I was hoping for. His last words as I walked out the door were, "Don't forget. CALL ME if you have any problems, I'm here." I picked up my FMLA paperwork (3x I've forgotten about it), and I was somewhat distressed when I left for the lab downstairs. I looked at all the tests he was running, and noticed the code had changed. 250.03. Type 1 diabetic, presenting with no complications, UNCONTROLLED.

My head and heart just fell, for a moment I thought about ditching the lab and running to my car. In one hand I had the FMLA forms, to officially verify that I am chronically ill. In the other hand, a list of blood work to quantify how "sick" I really am. 250.03 and any one of those people with complications in the waiting room could be me. Sneaky and quietly, the diabetes could steal away all those things I take for granted and depend on. Reality sometimes seems surreal. How did I get here? When did this start? AND WHY, WITH ALL THE ATTENTION AND CARE I HAVE BEEN PLACING ON MY D, WAS I NOW DECLARED UNCONTROLLED?

I know my A1C will probably still be bad, since it hasn't been that long since the DKA. I now wonder, what other problems they will conjure up out of those little tubes of blood. I can't believe how hard I'm taking this. I cried last night, and was close to tears all day today, even though I KNOW nothing has really changed since Monday. Seeing the reality of how this disease can ravage a body is daunting, and visiting the endo is like admitting that one day, I could fall prey to those dreaded complications. I left feeling defeated and still unaccomplished since I didn't even ask about the pump.

Interestingly, I came home from work this afternoon, with pen needles and boxes of strips greeting me at the door. I had to laugh. It was odd, that laughter. I think in that moment it was like God was reminding me I had tools to take care. It gave me a small bit if solace and I recited the serenity prayer to myself. I am so lucky to have family, insurance, tools, and a team of health care professionals to aid me in keeping my health good, but I know I will never really be satisfied until THERE IS A CURE.

Fear Is Rising

I'm starting to get a little ancy as I tap my fingers, and swing my legs. I simply can't seem to sit still. I have started to dwell and dread the fateful thing I face tomorrow. My Endo appointment.

I don't do this with any other kind of doctor's appointments. While I hate seeing the doctor in general, I never had this sense of doom. Probably because I have always been really healthy, and only now am I having to schedule routine visits and regular blood work. But now, I begin to count down as the day approaches, even more conscious of what I eat and what my numbers are. I even start to log them in for goodness sakes! I know when I finally do get there, my blood pressure and heart rate will skyrocket, and I SWEAR it causes my blood sugar to rise as well. Each time they take my pulse is always over 126 BPM and he always reads this and inspects me with that stethoscope. I can feel them all rising now, as I think about it.

I even go so far as to imagine how the conversation will go and what looks he'll give me. What kinds of things can I say or do to make him think I am in control, and knowledgeable (even if I'm not). I have stepped into my own weird little game where I mentally practice my appointment.

Don't get me wrong, my doctor is really nice, kind of clinical, and I know he's an Incredible doctor. So why should it make me so anxious? This time, I think it is because it will be the first normal visit from all of the DKA mess. Secondly, I am planning to ask about a pump. Third...OK I don' know what third is, but I do know I have ALL THESE QUESTIONS, and less than fifteen minutes to ask them in a non-babbling kind of way, AND get them answered. Talk about pressure.

I have decided to have a plan of attack. I am writing down all "must be answered" questions, so I will not forget. I will have them phrased in a clear and concise matter. I think this will help me, as long as I don't forget to bring the paper I write the questions on!

3:15 AM

The past week was like a dream I would love to forget. After postponing my call to the Doc, I wound up at the ER in DKA with a sugar level of 874. After almost a week in the hospital, and a lingering sinus infection, I am back at home and work. My fiance T is staying with me out of love and concern for a few days. (He was rather angry with me about the missed insulin doses, while he was out of town. I must remember my life directly affect his and I really do hate to see him worry) Other than this, things should be back to normal. SHOULD.

3:15 AM
The alarm blares. It does not wake me. T. heavily rolls over to hit the alarm and instead he encounters my head, and I am UP. Mission accomplished. T. is less than thrilled though, because he too is now wide awake.
"What in the world? Did the power go out?" T asks.
"No, I set the alarm. Just didn't mean it to be that loud. Sorry."
"why on earth would you do that?" T asks again.
All I need do, is show him the meter. 31mg.
He literally springs into action with juice from downstairs. Admittedly he is a big guy, and I was unaware he could move that fast! I picture him racing after a criminal in hot pursuit, but am brought back by the ringing in my head that clearly was not caused by T's heavy hand. I guzzle the small bottle of apple juice, and I see that T has brought up 3 more.
"Just in case." he says.
I feel groggy, tired and I still can't breathe well, but at that moment I felt so safe. Secure. He was there to wake me up when the alarm clock would not.

After his fear and my low had passed, I explained that with the higher doses, the Doctor wanted me to check my 3:00 AM numbers. Especially since my doses should come down, once I am well and my numbers are stable. To see the fear in this strong man's eyes was a little haunting, and I know it will be difficult convincing him I'm OK to stay by myself.

It had me thinking all day about it. It's true, that when we're married I will have fewer nights alone, but with the amount of time he travels, it won't be much more. I wonder what kind of strain that will cause in the future. Will he worry too much? Will I become resentful that he's not home very often? To have that feeling of security, like I had last night, I am now more aware of how alone (and in truth a little scared) I am, when he's not there beside me.

3:15 AM - The alarm clock went off, but it was today that I woke up.
Things are definitely not the same as yesterday.

Small

It's Friday and I'm glad this week has come to an end. The past few days have not been so good for me. I'm not sure if it's the weather, the season, or just my completely unpredictable blood sugars, but I'm feeling extremely small.

I hate feeling this way. I have no reason to feel so blue. I remind myself of all the blessings that I have, and feel even guiltier when they do not comfort me. I tend to think it has definite ties to my diabetes. I came across this realization when I started having a slight aversion to all things diabetes. Normally, I hop around many d-blogs throughout my day. I look for new info or articles that give me insight, but it is now a struggle to just post myself. Where it was a comfort before, it has now become a reminder. Almost admittance of guilt. Yes, I am guilty. I am a DIABETIC. I have been drafted into the club I never wanted or planned to be a part of.

Don't get me wrong. I think of everyone I have been "introduced" to online as a precious blessing. Without the many blogs and networks of amazing people, I would be alone in this. Without the D-community, I have no one surrounding me who understands. I thank you all for that. But this is something different which has grabbed hold of me, and is causing me to sink.

I thought I was handling everything quite well. I passed through a very small time of denial, including a few weeks of really low-normal sugars. Now, the shots have become "more normal". I test regularly and pay attention to my food. I felt positive and ready to face new challenges like those crazy holiday feasting parties. Now, I'm ready to move on to something new. In my head, it's almost like I'm thinking, "Well, I've done the diabetes thing. Maybe tomorrow I'll be vegan... or I'll start riding horseback...plug in any random activity here_________." Only, if I became vegan tomorrow, I'd be vegan and diabetic. With time, the diabetes does not go away. Now, the only thing I'm certain of, is that everyday, it will be there for the rest of my life. The novelty has worn off. The fact that a simple cup of coffee with Splenda and a tablespoon of flavored creamer reflects back to me in a number of 252, no longer surprises me. Frustrates me...but I repeat, does not surprise me.

Now I feel small and helpless to change it. I also feel self-indulgent in pity, which I hate. That is not a quality I find helpful, useful or productive in any way. Oh well. This weekend I will hibernate and seek shelter in my bed. Pulling the covers over my head, and of course, occasionally coming out to test.

No Wonder

Yesterday, I had my last day off of work (besides Christmas) before the end of the year. It was full of errands, and stuff on my "to do" list that I obviously haven't done. One of those things included a trip to the local JDRF office.

You see, I'd been carrying a donation check around with me for awhile. Everyday I said to myself, "I'll mail it tomorrow..." Well, I knew they wanted them all by the 4th (today), so it seemed like the perfect solution to just drive it there while doing all of my errands. However, now I'd wish I mailed it.

No wonder the JDRF walk was poorly coordinated. No wonder, I had trouble getting info from them. No wonder, I couldn't get them to return a call. It broke my heart to see this local hub of such a great organization.

First of all, I had trouble finding it. It is located in a mass of cookie cutter office buildings, that look more like trailers at overcrowded schools. When you enter the side of the building it is a long walk down one hallway, to the only decorated door of the bunch. The office is located behind a locked door, I was told was "for security reasons" I.E. "Stalker". The office consisted of only two small cubicles.

I was greeted by two very sweet and pleasant insividuals. They asked me questions, and thought like most people that I was still in high school. When I explained my age, they told me about how many young adults they were encountering who were newly diagnosed. I thought about asking about developing some sort of support group, but it seemed like those two people had the world on their shoulders and could handle any more. Turns out my doctor is on their board, and we chatted about him. When they found out I was a graphic artist, they promptly enlisted my services, to which I am more than happy to help. She kept saying, "Now, I'm really going to call you, so if you're being nice..."

I left there feeling saddened for the tiny little office and staff. All I want to do is help in some way. It was obvious from the shere fact that crucial details about the walk were left out. We weren't even notified about schedules and walk times (or even that breakfast and lunch would be served) until the night before the walk. The event itself was very nice, but we were all a little disappointed by the planning. No wonder.....

"A Tool You Can Use"

Today, I received the latest edition of Diabetes Forecast, that I got with my ADA membership. I found the first article to be of particular interest.

Recently, Richard Kahn, Chief Scientific Officer of the American Diabetes Association, made many upsetting comments about diabetes and the usefulness of it's technology. He also questioned the need for home blood sugar testing for those diabetics not using insulin. Many outraged bloggers and PWDs called him out on this speech which did nothing in the name of advocacy for PWDs.

Well, Diabetes Forecast which is put out by the ADA, ran an article this month named, "A Tool You Can Use", by Christy L. Parkin. The whole article centered around the new doubt about home monitoring effectiveness. It sounds like a disclaimer to appease those of us who were outraged.
"The American Diabetes Association and other organizations recommend frequent use of SMBG by people who use insulin to treat their diabetes. However, in response to new research findings, some health care payers are beginning to question the value of SMBG in non-insulin treated diabetes....However, before we jump to any conclusions, we need to first take a closer look at the research studies that are driving the issue."

While the article makes excellent points about the studies and states, "SMBG is not a substitute for effective, aggressive diabetes management; it simply makes it possible.", I can't help but feel this was totally about damage control. It actually makes me angrier. Kahn seemed very self-righteous in his response to Amy Tenderich's blog statement about his speech. He made no attempt to clarify or change his opinion and HE REPRESENTS THE ADA (AND THEY REPRESENT US!!!)Now, it seems awfully hypocritical to publish an article giving way a little. I mean, do you think the insurance companies will listen to him when it comes to reimbursement or listen to a small article published by a writer in a magazine for PWDs.
I still plan to not support the ADA anymore. At least, not until Richard Kahn, and those who supposedly advocate for us, come out with statements and speeches that don't sound like the insurance companies wrote them!

Ornamental Additions

I broke down and put up Christmas decorations. I put up my tree with all my lights, and the I got out my ornaments. So many of my ornaments mark big events, like when I brought my baby girl(puppy) home or the dove ornament, I put up after my grand father died. It reminds me of the importance of the people and the moments that shape my life.

This year I added a new ornament. It's not very pretty, and looks rather displaced on the tree. It's not warm or shiny. It does not stand out among all the others and I'm OK with that.

My new ornament is the first insulin pen I was handed at the hospital. Now it is empty, and still has the faint odor of old band aids, but I kept it. It means something very important to me. It does not represent the beginning of a chronic illness/terrible disease, but the lifeline that saves me every day. If it were not for the insulin, my disease would not be chronic, but my life would be over. For this reason, I hold it in very high regard. Definitely a love/hate relationship, but I can never deny it's power or praise.

It is my one new addition to the tree and it represents my future.

Boredom Strikes Again

Today at work, I was somewhere between extremely busy and bored. Work seems to always come in waves. So, during my down time I got a little bored. In an attempt to cure my boredom, I mindlessly started playing connect the dots on my arms.


The dots of course are from my recent attempts at alternative site testing. Less pain, more waste, and more visibility. I have trouble getting enough blood to fill a strip, and it leaves those little red dots. Pretty sure it's not worth it, although my readings are much better.

I have to say it sort of resembles a face. Maybe?

Feast, Family, Fun?

Tomorrow is the day. Thanksgiving.

I'm grateful. Grateful for so many things. I'm even grateful that I was diagnosed with diabetes. Let me explain... I had a friend that died at diagnosis, just 1 month after I was diagnosed. That makes me appreciate my life a little more. Diabetes is also treatable, and for that I'm thankful.

I'm also a little melancholy. Things are different this year. My view of family, food and holidays have changed. I'm skeptical of how they will behave, how I will behave and also how my blood sugars will behave. Last Friday was my trial run that failed, and I'm not sure tomorrow will be better. But I hope.

I will make my cheesecake (again!) and drive my new car on a road trip for the first time. I will have my fiance and family to join me as I carefully dodge between getting a ticket, and making good time. Good company, good food and I determined to have a good time.

May all of you have a wonderful and safe Thanksgiving holiday.

My First Meme

First Time to Be Tagged for A Meme
THANKS BETH!

The Rules:

1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.
4. Tag seven random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

1. God strayed from the basic floor plan when He made me, and it almost killed me. When I was nine, my appendix ruptured. It had been ruptured for days before I got to the hospital, but the only reason they admitted me was fever and dehydration. After many tests, the doc guessed and decided to open me up “in case” it was my appendix. By that time, serious infection had already set in. The reason they didn’t find it sooner? It was directly behind my stomach, and the ultrasound couldn’t see it.

2. I had the amazing opportunity to travel overseas last summer. I got to spend a week in Israel, right after they started bombing Lebanon. In fact, we saw fireworks of the dangerous kind. We were surrounded by young girls and boys (children really) with guns everywhere due to even the regular political turmoil. In the midst of all that, it was the most calm and peaceful I’ve felt anywhere. Especially n Jerusalem. I hadn’t expected to get that attached to a place, but I will definitely return with anticipation!

3. I looked like a vampire until I was twelve. I was born without the teeth in between my front teeth and canines. So for a while all you could really see was my pointy teeth. Over 2 1/2 years spent in braces to pull them all together, so now I have no eye teeth. Did I mention my gene pool is shallow.

4. I went to school on a musical theatre scholarship, but was told by my parents that I could not major in it. So I majored in art instead. I got BFA in Painting, having never taken any art classes before. I have always loved to draw though. My parents were thrilled...NOT!

5. I have the bad tendency of stopping watches. I don’t know how. I wear them for a little while, and they spontaneously stop. I take them off and a few days later, they’re ticking again. The batteries are always good too. My co-worker put up a sign above my desk that says “You have entered the Bermuda Triangle”
That might be a good reason to avoid getting a pump.

6. I secretly am addicted to the show, Lisa Williams: Life Among the Dead. I’m usually really skeptical about psychics and mediums, but she has me believing. Now, I sometimes wonder if loved ones, are around during inappropriate moments. That kind of freaks me out.

7. Not so fun note. I have a stalker. I have had to move three times to get away from him. I even have my parents address on my license, so I can’t be traced that way. Protection order and everything. This is the reason for not having my picture posted. My name is also a variation of my real name. Sorry guys, not trying to mislead.

I'm tagging a few D365ers and Jeff
Daena, Jennifer, Chris, Naomi,and Michelle
Wait that's six.. Oh well.

Numbers Even When I Dream

Oh the stress.

I admit it. I have the tendency to stretch myself a little too thin. Among my many projects, wedding planning and my regular work, I am currently illustrating a book. Not just any kind of book either. It's a math book, and it is proving to be quite the challenge.

It's certainly not the kind of project I would normally do, so I'm a little out of my element. The author wants me to help make the book "approachable" and easy to read. Did I mention, it's for an adult audience...not a child.

Throughout the process, I have been swimming in numbers. OK, maybe drowning would be a little more accurate. Between my blood sugar checks, my carb counting and the book, I am now seeing numbers everywhere. I close my eyes and they move past me like on the Jumbo trons at games. It's almost like when I became obsessed with Tetris, and I began seeing the falling pieces when I tried tried to sleep. Only now it's the numbers.

As I'm staring at the pages of the book, my brain starts to interpret it as some kind of archaic language that I am TOTALLY not meant to understand. In fact, I think I might need a break from my computer screen, since my eyes are beginning to cross. I need to stop and eat dinner, but you know what that would mean....

Party Time

Friday night was my first holiday party involving insulin. I must admit it put quite a damper on my enjoyment that evening. I kept a running tally of what I was eating, how many carbs, and other items running through the back of my mind all evening.

I decided to not shoot up until I was seated for the main meal. That meant all my appetizers were more on the protein/nut variety. I figured that would be OK. When I tested, right before I dosed, I was unbelievably at 189. I corrected and under bolused in case I was too full to eat a lot.

Most everything at the table was a carb nightmare...honey glazed sweet potatoes, home style mash potatoes, corn salad, of course my mac'n cheese and SO MUCH MORE. I thought I did very well while showing great restraint. After all, I didn't dive into the table like I really wanted to. Most of the foods served, have been TOTALLY TABOO since diagnosis. I even only ate just one cookie for dessert. Overall I was very proud...until I tested.

I was trying not to test during the party, just like how I didn't want to take more than 1 shot. I would think about it, but I always found myself in the middle of a great conversation or a funny joke. I finally tested when T. and I got in the car. I was 445. What!?! I know I didn't eat THAT much.

A few weeks ago, I was staying low a lot, and recently the numbers have been creeping upward again. But 445 is ridiculous. I corrected when I got home, but afraid I might go low later in the night, I was conservative with the insulin. When I awoke on Saturday, I was 385 with ketones. Thirsty and cotton mouthed, I drank loads of water and took my insulin. I finally came down to 178 before lunch, but was back in the 300s after. Frustrated, I stayed in the 250-300s all day.

This morning I awoke at 225 and have managed to get the number down to 150. Hopefully, it will stay that way! Needless to say, maybe next party I will learn to be less self-concious, and just keep a closer eye on things. Live & learn.

Race to the Holidays

Today officially begins the race toward the holidays. Parties, food, family & friends come and go in what looks like the scenery from a subway train. These are also the days, I can feel my wallet getting lighter as I buy food and gifts for all. Days that I typically live for. I hardly ever get to cook for the masses, and I firmly believe it is WAY more fun to give than to get.


Tonight is a good old fashion Thanksgiving among friends, before we are all pulled away to our families. And while I prepare myself to look my best tonight, my preparation actually began last night at the supermarket. It was my first of many bulk shopping extravaganzas that had to be done at Costcos. Cheese and pasta for massive homemade mac'n cheese, cream cheese for the cake. All in amounts that might carry me through to next weeks parties. As I stroll through the crowd, I see all the lights, and hear the Christmas music echoing. I think to myself, I really need to finish taking down the Halloween decorations (sh!!! don't tell)! I pass the pre-made pies and I'm tempted, but I pass by as I head to the checkout ready to be on my way home.

I cooked my food, and now they are packed and ready to head to my friends. I am dressed and have everything in place ready to make a smooth exit. In fact this year, I am armed with something extra. I tiny little insulin pen that falls to the very bottom of my purse. I am also armed with a glucose meter and new strips. I feel prepared to handle my first holiday meal, with copious amounts of food. There will be grazing, sinful sides and glorious desserts. I wonder, when do I give the insulin? Before the meal at the appetizers? Maybe during the main meal. What about before the desserts which I'm sure will send me skyrocketing. I don't typically eat large meals, especially not ones that will last for hours. Do I take more than one shot, and chance stacking? Tonight will be a testing ground, and I'm so grateful to have my fiance there with me, keeping a watchful eye, in case I get overzealous with the insulin. Jokingly he reassures me that the result of such bolusing, only means more cake, and that can't be bad. I love him for that.

Here I go on the first on many holiday events, and I must admit I'm a little nervous.

WDD - The Aftermath

I must admit, I spent a good bit of my day hopping around many websites and blogs that shared their experiences of World Diabetes Day. My "to check" list was long, and I found myself taking every stolen opportunity at work. Wait for a file to open....read a blog. Wait for a program to open or a file to save...view photos in video slide show.

I find myself pulled into it, this day of awareness, these people determined to see things change for the better. The ironic sense of sadness shared with great hope and determination poured through D-bloggers' posts today. I felt connected and only wished I could have been a part of it. I wish I could have been an advocate or an event coordinator. This incredibly strong, call to action pulled me in this week. A cause that had not even crossed my mind 6 months ago. A disease I knew absolutely nothing about, and now all the people touched by this disease seem so close and so important. Everyone else...so vulnerable to it.

All yesterday, the closest I came to WDD was through papers, TV news and the web. I found what I was looking for on the Internet. Stories, photos, and amazing spectacles of blue filled me with hope for the future. I was disheartened though, by the fact I heard the mention of it no where else.

On the local news, I heard about national adoption month. On the national news channels, I heard about presidential campaigns swallowing yet another foot, political turmoil in Pakistan, and a child's suicide that was caused by another girl's vengeful parents. NO WDD. nothing. not a blue light in a photo, or a proclamation or a march. In fact, I've heard more about "going green" this month than diabetes awareness month. Maybe I'm just overly sensitive about it.

Here I am all geared up for this phenomenal event, years in the making, and no one around me shares my excitement. I told my mom about it, and she said, " That's nice honey." Clearly not interested, but polite. On the Internet, the support seems endless, and then I am rudely reminded, that I am alone in this. In truth, I can say I would not have known or probably cared if my circumstances had not changed. It seems you truly have to be touched in some important way to get involved this emotionally.

Now, I am more determined than ever to do something. anything. I just want to get involved. I want the me from six months ago and all those who were just like me to understand the seriousness, the growth, and misconceptions of this worldwide epidemic. It is just too important not to. I know all too well, that diabetes does not discriminate. If it can happen to me, with a practically 0% chance of getting it, it can happen to ANYONE at ANY TIME. Now I just have to figure out how.

WORLD DIABETES DAY

A day created to reflect, teach, learn and inspire.

May there be many more days of awakening to come.

Supporting Diabetes Technology

One day, I hope to be able to use an insulin pump and CGM system, without hassle from my insurance co. or bankruptcy. I know that while technology alone will not save me from complications or ill health, I firmly believe for me and those who are motivated to have better control of their health, it is a blessing. Money should never be a hindrance to better care.

In an effort to help support the continuation of research and coverage for technology in the realm of diabetes, I urge everyone fill out this survey. Go to Support Diabetes Technology , and show your support. Amy T of Diabetes Mine has once again rallied the troops to stand up for a better standard of care. Thanks Amy!

Test strips...$100, Insulin pump...$6,000, Quality of Life...PRICELESS.

Ode to a Day Without Regrets

While everyday is beautiful, days like today don't come around very often.

I woke up right on time, alert and ready to start my day. Certainly not the usual struggle to drag myself out of bed. Not even a second late for work.

Work came and went without any anxiety of a normal Monday. I didn't even have the urge to break into my snack drawer for "energy".

I had no traffic or wrecks to contend with on my way home, and now, I am lazily lounging with my dog in front of a warm fire.

Not one bruise from a shot. Not one low or even high blood sugar.

I cherish days like this, but I know if everyday went this well, days like this wouldn't be so special.

"Of All The Things..."

"Of all the things I ever worried about happening to you, well... I just KNEW diabetes was not one of them."

My mom said it to me again today. She has probably uttered those exact words 25 times or more since I was diagnosed. I'm sure she will say them many more times in the future.

Today those words were sparked by a conversation we have every year.
"What are you bringing to Thanksgiving Dinner this year?"
"I'm not sure...probably my beloved cheesecake, or some kind of dessert", I said.

Every year the family travels out of town to have the holiday with the rest of my family. My Aunt, cousins and their kids are all in attendance. It's been tradition since my grandparents were alive, and we still continue it.
I asked mom what she was cooking, and she answered," I don't know, what can you eat? Aunt V also wants to know if she needs to prepare something special. Do you really think you should bring a dessert? You can't even eat that, can you?"

I was speechless, but not because I was angry or mad. This disease has had a huge impact on my mom as well as me, but I became aware that this holiday will be different. Maybe not bad, but different. Everyone knows. Will they stare? Will they ask questions? Will they pretend they don't know?

When things happen in families, there are always whispered words behind closed doors. I know, because I usually hear about them when they are about me. "Mandy looks too thin, is she eating well? etc..." This time words have taken a weird turn.

I should start out by saying, my mom's denial has actually been much greater than mine. "We just don't have any of that in our family. You're not a kid...that only happens to kids. I've NEVER heard of anyone who takes insulin having to take more than one shot a day. You have always eaten too much candy" She is by definition that ignorant/large part of the population who just doesn't know about the disease. I was like that too, BEFORE. She, for awhile, had me truly questioning my DX. She had me thinking I was a type 2, regardless of my weight, lifestyle or test results.

My Aunt has apparently joined that type 2 bandwagon. "She can't have type 1, surely she can just cut back on her sugar intake." And her best quote (with good intentions I'm sure), "Is insulin really necessary? Don't you think that might be taking it a bit too far. It can't be that serious. She just needs to eat more protein." This was not long after I was released from the hospital after more than a weeks stay.

I love them both, and I know they mean well. After today's conversation, I don't know that I feel comfortable around them anymore, especially at a holiday like Thanksgiving where it's all about the food. Diabetes had not actually crossed my mind in reference to family and the holiday season until my mom brought up making special provisions for me. Now it is filling me with trepidation.

Singled out. Embarrassed. Now, not quite sure what to expect.
"Of All The Things..."

365 Delayed

I have to say, I'm feeling inspired. My inspiration? All of the wonderful people snapping photos for the diabetes365 project. It's an amazing photo graphical representation of what it means to live with diabetes.

In my excitement of finally deciding to participate, I started a Flicker account. I also charged the batteries for my camera and was ready to snap my first shot. I have to admit it was hard to take one shot only. I became aware of all these everyday D-related photo ops. Kinda scary, but now this is what I call my life.

As I got my computer ready to upload and officially join the project, I was upset to see my computer cable and card reader were at work. Skunked again! This has not deterred me, but only delayed me.

If you haven't seen the site, please do...I repeat, It's amazing.
http://projectdiabetes365.com/