#Inspiration

Project Blue November is sponsoring an Instagram challenge for diabetes awareness month. Today's theme is inspiration.
 


What image would I post?  What inspires me in this diabetes life?

There's the obvious choice: a photo of my kid. For so many reasons she's my inspiration. Neither of us chose this path but the way she's treading it inspires me every day.

Another choice would be a photo from one of our JDRF walks.  I'd choose one with some friends in it but also with the sea of people surrounding us.  Those are the images I conjure up after a long night of Dexcom alarms. It's inspiring to know how many other people are rooting for and working towards the end of T1D.

I have lots of pictures of my 'happy places' I could use, like an ocean shot or a picture I took from my seat in a kayak. Being in these places gives me the opportunity to disconnect from the everyday and gain the perspective and inspiration I need to move forward with renewed energy.

I could post a favorite spiritual or philosophical mantra.  There are plenty of quotes and verses which inspire me to keep going even when this diabetes road gets rocky.

What about a word collage with names of people who inspire me? It would begin with my kid but also include my husband, family and friends. It would especially include our friends whose lives are touched by diabetes. It would include doctors, nurses and other medical staff who've encouraged us along the way. It would include famous people living with this disease and raising their voices in encouragement and advocacy. It would include names from the diabetes online community whose voices have kept me going on many long days. 

Fortunately, I was able to turn this into a written exercise and lay out a collection of possibilities instead of choosing just one.  But I worry that there are people out there who wouldn't be able to think of even one.

Which brings us back to diabetes awareness month and my goal of considering awareness from lots of different angles. I am so fortunate to have abundant resources in my life from which to draw inspiration. That awareness leads me to wonder what else I can be doing to help other families with diabetes to find sources of inspiration in their own lives. It takes a variety of resources to live well with diabetes: insulin, knowledge, patience, medical care, humor, adequate equipment, and, especially on the toughest days, it takes some sources of inspiration. Everybody should have at least one.

Not All Statistics Are Boring

I struggle every November to think of ways to use my personal social media accounts to raise awareness.   I've posted general diabetes facts.  I've posted symptom checklists.  I've shared bits of our story.  I've received very little reaction to any of those posts, and those who did 'like' or comment were almost always people whose lives were also touched by this disease.

Thanks to JDRF, this year is different.  The above infographic can be created by  going to this page on the JDRF website.  Type in a few dates and details and, voila: a personalized diabetes stats sheet. 

I posted this on Facebook on Tuesday and it's still generating conversation today. People are genuinely moved by these numbers.  They're big numbers, and somewhat alarming if you really look at them. These numbers invoke, in a unique way, both surprise and empathy.  She's had how many fingersticks and she never complains about it?  You've lost how many hours of sleep and you're still (usually) functional?  The people closest to us see some of it, but I imagine there's almost nobody who realizes how much sleep we lose or how often my kid has a sharp object pierce her skin.

Last November, I wrote about how awareness-raising within our small circles of friends can not only generate more personal support for us which, let's be honest, we could always use; but also how it can also create a ripple effect, raising awareness and advocacy on a larger scale.

This year I'm grateful to JDRF for providing me an extremely effective way to start several meaningful conversations about what life with diabetes is like.

Awareness?

Diabetes exists, and we'd rather it didn't anymore.  Please be aware of that.

I intend to visit the idea of awareness in a few different ways during this magical month of November. The above words, from a post I wrote back in 2011, sum up my sense that there are many different aspects of diabetes to raise awareness about and many different ways to do so. The rest of the piece is below:


I've read a couple of pieces this week discussing what the purpose of diabetes awareness month should be.  Awareness is the obvious answer, but awareness of what?

Should it be awareness that people with diabetes can do anything people without diabetes can?  No foods are forbidden. There are famous athletes, musicians, and supreme court justices with diabetes.  My kid can come to your kid's birthday party, whatever it may entail.

Should it be  awareness that diabetes is a terrible disease to live with?  It involves piercing the skin with sharp objects many times per day.  Cumbersome equipment and its related management is a constant.  Scary complications up to and including early death are real possibilities.

Should it be advocacy for a cure?  Don't cut national funding for medical research.  Allow scientists to use all the tools at their disposal to find a way to erase diabetes.  Donate to JDRF or DRI or ADA.

Should it be an increased sense of community?  Wear blue on Fridays. Make plans to attend Friends for Life or go to a local JDRF event. Blog more.

Or is it simpler than all that?  Maybe any of the above will do.  Whatever it is that means the most to me, or you, is what we should do.  The important part is not how we share the message, but that we do it at all. 

Diabetes exists, and we'd rather it didn't anymore.  Please be aware of that.

Bits and Pieces - Catching Up Before Looking Ahead

May is upon us, and the pace is picking up again.  In case you missed them, here are a few interesting bits and pieces of the big world of Diabetes which have crossed my computer screen in the past week or two:

This NPR podcast entitled, 'The Robot Vacuum Ate My Pancreas,' tells the story of Dana Lewis who invented her own artificial pancreas.  Not only is it fascinating to hear that (extremely intelligent, technologically trained) people are successfully doing this, but the piece does an excellent job of explaining her motivation.  A comparison of maintaining level blood sugars to trying to keep a car going exactly 70 miles an hour without cruise control was one clever example of how this piece describes the kinds of frustrations diabetes management brings.

The new Miss New Hampshire has Type 1 Diabetes and hopes use her platform to raise awareness throughout her state and during the Miss America Competition.  Awareness raising is always good in my book.

There was a huge stem cell therapy conference at the Vatican last week which received press in the mainstream media.  The attendees were addressed by both the Pope and Vice President Biden, along with many others. Diabetes and its community of advocates were well represented along with a multitude of other issues stem cell therapy may eventually provide help for.  The conference was designed to encourage collaboration between scientists using similar technology to treat different diseases.  You can sample the conference and its media coverage via the twitter feed.

Diabetes Blog Week is coming!  The week runs from May 16-20th with wildcard topics for those who want to keep going into the weekend.  I'm excited to respond to the prompts, and to read the thoughtful posts they're likely to evoke. 

National Nurse's Day is this Friday, May 6th.  Our school nurse will get a bottle of Bath and Body Works' Stress Relief Hand Sanitizer, and a card from us.  Don't forget the nurses who are important to you!

In my daughter's little world this month will bring big events like the annual standardized tests, at least 4 birthday celebrations, the 8th grade semi-formal dance and an all day music field trip which includes both performance competitions and time at an amusement park.  These should all prove to be incredibly exciting.  Will diabetes cooperate?  Stay tuned for details!

Raising Awareness Delicately

"I thought she couldn't have pie."

"I just read an article about cinnamon and diabetes.  It sounds like a supplement could really make things easier for you."

"Did you see the story about the guy in (insert neighboring state here) who just crashed his car and died and they think it was because he was experiencing low blood sugar?"

'Tis the season to spend time with the loved ones we don't see every day: relatives at the holiday table, friends who come into town once a year, neighbors we talk at length with only at the annual open house.  Conversation starters like the ones above are likely.  

When posed by someone with whom we have no biological or emotional attachment, the following responses might be deemed acceptable:

"You thought wrong." A little half-smile is optional, to soften the impact.

"I think you might want to read a little more about that one," delivered with a subtle shake of the head.

"Well that's terrifying...thanks so much." Walking away could be the next step.

When posed by a misinformed close friend or by a relative we spend a good amount of time with, it's probably worth it to spend some time really explaining the ins and outs of why what they've said is inaccurate and/or upsetting to us.  We can assume this person cares about us and doesn't want us to be upset, and that it will benefit all of us to have a substantial conversation in order to avoid a repeat in the future.

But what to do with dear Aunt Susie who you see, at best, twice a year?  These kinds of answers work for me:

"Ah...but what's Thanksgiving without pie?  She can take extra insulin for it."

"Hmmm...I've read about that too.  Unfortunately it's not for the kind of diabetes she has."

"Oh dear!  I find those kinds of stories so scary- I avoid them if I can.  But even though she's only 14 I've started impressing upon her the importance of checking her blood sugar before driving."

My goal is to remember that people like our fictional Aunt Susie are asking out of love and concern.  Aunt Susie certainly means no harm, and I certainly don't want to spend Thanksgiving dinner or the duration of the cookie exchange party arguing with her.  So a brief, accurate and kind reply works best, raising a little awareness and then moving on quickly...hoping that politics isn't the next topic she decides to bring up.

Banting!!!

My daughter has the opportunity through her school to participate in a scholastic competition called "National History Day." If you want to know lots about it, you can click the link.  But in a nutshell, students in middle and high school extensively research a topic within the year's announced category.  Working alone or in groups, they can create an enormous display board, a documentary, a website, a performance or a paper based on their topic.  They attend a regional competition where they present their projects, and from there can progress to the state and national levels.

This year's topic is 'Exploration, Encounter and Exchange.'  The sample topic list given to the kids was all over the map, with obvious choices like the pilgrims arriving in the new world and the work of Margaret Mead, to the seemingly only vaguely relevant like Pop Art and China's Explosion into Gunpowder.

"We're thinking of doing something that has to do with science," my daughter reported when she came home from school last week.  She and the girl she's teamed up with were considering Jane Goodall, Margaret Mead, Steven Hawking and ... Frederick Banting, discoverer of insulin.   "Exploration in Science:  Jonas Salk and the discovery of the Polio Vaccine" was one of the sample topics, and it got her thinking.

Yesterday they made the final decision: a website about Banting!  He was exploring scientifically, encountered a life-sustaining treatment, and the exchange is still occurring- allowing people with diabetes to live increasingly long and healthy lives.

I'm excited about this for many reasons: 

She'll learn about the guy who discovered the stuff that keeps her alive.

She discovered that this classmate she's working with has 2 relatives with type 1 diabetes, so a new little diabetes community connection has been made.

I get to spend the next 4 months immersed in information and ideas about something fascinating and near and dear to my heart.  This is refreshing since the knowledge I gained from last year's topic of Toussaint Louverture will benefit me only in trivia contests.

She has begun in November, and will continue into the spring, to spread awareness about diabetes.  Her project will be viewed by her classmates, teachers, regional competition participants and judges. 
And awareness is important, not only in November, but always!

Shouldn't They Already Be Aware?

The per diem doc who was in our pediatrician's office on Halloween when we stopped by for a flu shot (trick or treat?) asked my daughter if she'd eat candy that night or just hand it out.  "I'll eat some," she replied enthusiastically. 

"Oh- so you'll cheat," he replied.

"Well, not really," she mustered, looking surprised.  "I'll bolus for it."

"With the pump, it's pretty easy to enjoy the treats," I added, wondering if I'd somehow stepped back in time 20 years.

"O.k.," he said skeptically as he headed off to the next examining room.

We've encountered dreadfully unaware medical professionals more times than I'd like to count.  There was the nurse at the children's hospital's same day medical center who, when we arrived at 8:30 a.m. for the procedure, asked if we'd checked my daughter's blood sugar in the past 24 hours.  There was the lab technician who had access to my child's diagnosis and yet reassured her that once the blood was drawn she probably wouldn't have to deal with a needle again for years.  And the pharmacist with whom I had a lengthy conversation about "keystone test strips" (only available in Pennsylvania?) and why any child could possibly need them- because children don't have diabetes.

Finding the words to explain diabetes is often difficult.  We've found it even more difficult when the lack of awareness comes from medical professionals who really should know better.  But find the words we do, so that hopefully the next kid who shows up at the lab center won't have to.

The Benefits of Becoming Visible

This year's JDRF walk had what we thought was a particularly cool new twist.  The walkers with diabetes were given the special blue shirts pictured below:

 

 

 

Suddenly we were aware (there's that big November word again!) of all of the people around us who had diabetes.  People of all ages and from all walks of life were walking around in these blue t-shirts, instantly identifiable as PWDs (people with diabetes) to the world around them.  People in blue shirts were nodding and smiling at each other.  Parents pushing a stroller containing a toddler in a blue shirt had other parents of blue-shirted people coming up to them and offering support.  A blue shirt made the wearer the star of the show, if only for a couple of hours.

 

There are some plusses to having an invisible illness- I've covered them here before.  But along the lines of these shirts and of JDRF's T1D looks like me campaign this November, there are some plusses to being visible once in a while too.  A big one is PWD's and those who love them finding each other for support. 

 

Are there ways, even without the blue shirts, we can be more aware of and supportive of the people we know who are on this diabetes path with us?  Can we be more attuned to picking strangers with diabetes out of the crowd?  Even a smile and a nod go a long way towards not feeling alone.

 

 

We Need to Talk

If I ask a colleague to donate $10 to my walk for a disease she doesn't understand, she's unlikely to give.

If the big debate in town is whether or not to save money by eliminating school nurses, and my neighbor thinks that nurses just give out band-aids and call parents of sick children, she'll vote differently than I would.

If I tell the parents that my child knows everything she needs to know to be safe at the party, cross my fingers, and go home, they'll assume that what she's dealing with is no big deal.

Earlier this week I shared my diabetes awareness month goal of opening up a bit more about diabetes during regular every-day kinds of conversation: awareness-raising on a very small scale. These conversations feel, at first pass, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.  They seemingly pale in comparison to traveling to Capitol Hill to meet legislators or starting a foundation.  I think, though, that I've been underestimating their importance.

In addition to the potential for more support for me, and for my family, those conversations have the potential for a big ripple effect.

Someone who's heard my story about a scary low blood sugar incident is more likely to keep an extra eye on my child at their house.

Someone who's heard our harrowing diagnosis story will be better prepared to support a friend or coworker whose relative is newly diagnosed.

Someone who knows the amount of time and money it takes to keep just one child with diabetes alive will be more attuned to legislative issues related to health care and medical research.

Someone who knows how very tired and occasionally anxious diabetes makes us will be more likely to buy that paper JDRF sneaker at Marshalls.

If I'm really doing it right, someone who hears our story might even pass it along to a friend who will be more likely to do all of those things too.  And if every one of us whose lives are touched by diabetes were to share a story now and then about why it's a big deal, imagine the ripples we could create.  We need to talk.

Awareness of the Need for Support

When my neighbor's husband died suddenly a couple of weeks ago her driveway filled with cars.  The florist truck was on autopilot to her address.  People arrived carrying trays of food.  Her mailbox was full of cards.

As I pulled in my driveway this morning after school drop-off, she was leaving her house alone, headed for a day of work.

When my daughter was diagnosed with diabetes during Christmas week 2002, we were surrounded by support.  By the time we'd returned home from the hospital,  Santa and his helpers had filled our living room with toys.  There were cards and phone calls from afar.  Relatives and local friends brought us food and kept us company as we adjusted to this new and challenging way of life.

When my daughter called from the nurses office because she was low, again, last Friday, nobody was around to offer a hug.

My neighbor's grief has not gone away because three weeks have passed.  Similarly, our family's need for support has not gone away because nearly thirteen years have passed.  Both have become less visible, and less urgent.  But we'd be much better off not traveling this road alone.

November is Diabetes Awareness Month. Grateful that raising awareness is not up to me alone, I intend to narrow my focus down to just a few avenues of awareness-raising.  One area I've struggled with over the years is being open with even our closest friends about what living with this disease is really, really like.

Therefore, my personal goal for this November is to be just a little bit more candid about the frustrating, scary, and painful parts of having a child with diabetes.  Maybe just once when I meet up with a friend and she asks how I am, I'll go ahead and share that I was up half the night treating low blood sugars.  Or maybe I'll one-up a story of a cantankerous teenager with a description of what happened when I attempted to engage my child with a 300+ blood sugar in conversation yesterday afternoon.  Maybe, given the opportunity, I'll even share that there are aspects of having a kid with diabetes which terrify me.

Friends and family are no longer at our door offering hugs and asking how they can help.  The major crisis has long passed.  We appear to be doing just fine: good grades, extracurricular activities, nice friends, weekend adventures.  But it's my goal this month to raise awareness among those who care most about us that it's not all rainbows and unicorns.  That we still need their support.

Writing the Letter

We've participated in a JDRF Walk every fall since my daughter was diagnosed.  It's an annual challenge to pen a brief and compelling letter, unique from the ones of years past, in which I explain why diabetes is awful and why donating to JDRF is, in our opinion, a helpful response.  Here's this year's letter, without the opening paragraph with the walk day details, and with the name of our stuffed bear with diabetes substituted for my daughter's own name:

About a mile into our second walk to cure diabetes, Ruby, who was about to turn 3 years old, turned around in her stroller, looked me in the eye, and said,

“Why are we doing this, anyway?” 

“To raise money for people to learn about diabetes and hopefully find a way to make it easier to live with it. Or even to fix it.”

“Oh…okay.”

That’s why we’re still doing this.  And we’re encouraged. 

JDRF is funding research for biological and technological advances which show true promise.  The updates have been coming thicker and faster over the past couple of years, with encouraging progress on a variety of fronts.  Most promising, in our opinion, is the possibility that a ‘bionic pancreas’ system which would regulate Ruby’s blood sugar with little input needed from her, will be available before she graduates from college. 

Even at 3, Ruby immediately understood that the reason we were taking this seemingly endless walk in the windy drizzle was a good one.  Even at 3, she knew that she didn’t like the pokes and prods of diabetes.  She didn’t like the need to eat when she wasn’t hungry, or to avoid the donut holes at playgroup.  She knew she didn’t like how uncomfortable she felt with low or high blood sugars.  Maybe she even knew that she didn’t like how anxious and distracted diabetes sometimes made her parents.

Ten years later, we’re still walking, for reasons which aren't much different.  We’ve walked in different towns, with different people.  What’s remained the same is that we’ve walked closer and closer to our dream of a safer, healthier, easier life for Ruby. 

We’d like you to walk with us this October, in body or in spirit.

While writing the letter is a challenge, watching the response makes it worth it.  I'm pleasantly surprised every year to be reminded that friends, coworkers, family and even tangential acquaintances care about the impact diabetes has on us and on so many other people.  We've raised about $2000 this month and have a team of 15 people walking, with the possibility of more of each to come.  I'm glad we're doing this! 

Baring It All

I'm incredibly proud that my daughter is willing to bare it all at the pool.

Said no mother ever.

Except me.

She's not really baring it all all, of course.  But she decided this spring that she really wanted a bikini.

Many sentences uttered at our house now start with, "All of my friends are...," and I was informed this spring that all of her friends would be wearing only bikinis at the pool this summer.  This was a big step for two reasons:

While some girls wear bikinis from the beginning, my daughter never had, so this was a milestone in terms of growing up.  Despite our concerns about finding bikinis appropriate for a tween/young teen, we found two very cute ones.  Ruffly tops and bottoms with plenty of coverage are out there if you look long enough.

The second concern, of course, was the increased obviousness of the diabetes paraphernalia.  About this, my daughter decided she simply didn't care.  Wearing a bikini trumped any concern about the dexcom sensor taped to her belly and the insulin pump clipped to her bathing suit.

My daughter has so far had more people ask her about the dexcom and  pump at her morning summer music program (where it's generally in her pocket or clipped to her waistband under a t-shirt) than at the pool. Perhaps we'll keep a running tally.  When asked, she has a couple of short answers prepared, and is able to move on without much fanfare.

The only comment I've heard so far was from a mom I know tangentially, a friend of a friend, who came up to me and said, "I just wanted to tell you I'm so impressed with her wearing a bikini and not caring what anyone thinks.  I think that's just great."

At 13, it's an impressive decision to make. As a rule, these are the years of trying to fit in, the years of "all my friends are."  So I'm proud of my daughter for baring it all at the pool.  I'm proud that she's comfortable with what she looks like, taped on contraptions and all.  I'm proud that she's willing to answer the inevitable questions.  I'm proud that she's not going to let diabetes stop her from doing something she wants to do, however relatively trivial this particular decision may be.

I still have mixed feelings about this. Watching my little girl walk past me at the pool in her bikini makes me do a double-take every time.  But it has nothing to do with the dexcom sensor.

Geocaching

My husband and daughter have taken up a new hobby.  Geocaching is described in detail in this link, but essentially, it's a treasure hunt using GPS coordinates.  People hide 'caches' in public places.  Then they post GPS coordinates and additional clues on the website linked above.

So far our family has found about 40 caches in 4 different states.  I'm not so much a fan of the scrounging around in bushes and under park benches part of the whole thing, but it's been a great excuse for visiting nearby parks, hiking trails, historical sites, and even extra rest stops when we're on the road.

After having found a good amount of caches and getting the hang of the GPS app and how the website works, my husband decided it was time to create our own cache.  We needed a small, waterproof container in which to place a scroll for people to sign when they found the cache.  We had just the thing. A little camouflage duct tape to make it a little harder to find and it was ready to go:

People who hide caches often offer a prize or a special shout-out to the first person to find their cache.  My husband went a different direction.  Included in the clue is this line:

The first person to identify this container will earn a special place in our hearts.

Junior Diabetes

I was waiting for the question.  The sneakers were up behind the counter. The cashier at Marshalls rang up my purchases. Then he looked up.  "Would you like to donate to the Junior Diabetes Foundation?" 

As you may be aware, there's an ongoing discussion in the diabetes community about the name for the autoimmune form of diabetes.  Juvenile Diabetes was the original.  Type 1 is the current.  Some think the third time will be a charm.

Despite the push to use 'type 1,' or an even newer moniker, 'juvenile' lingers. One reason is that it's featured in the original name of the disease's primary foundation.  JDRF began as the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.  According to the people running our local walk kick-off event this summer, JDRF has chosen to shorten its official name to the acronym, but not to change it completely.  The concern is that brand recognition is imperative for their fundraising efforts. An explanation of their re-branding can be found on the JDRF website.

Their decision is understandable in some ways, but problematic in others.  When people see an acronym, they assume it stands for the organization's name.  JDRF has redrawn their logo to make the J and D resemble T1D.  Next to their logo are the words, 'Improving lives. Curing Type 1 Diabetes.'  Yet verbally, that doesn't come across.  Selling sneakers at the check-out is very much a verbal transaction. The cashier was stuck with an acronym: JDRF.  I imagine a training packet comes with the sneakers, with sales pitches to use.  I also imagine that if staff are actually trained, not much of it sticks.

So I was asked to donate to the Junior Diabetes Foundation.  It could have been worse.  Diabetes made it in there, which defined the essential purpose of the fundraising.  Anyone with a connection to the disease would probably have accurately translated the question.

I suppose I could have said something like, "It's actually Type 1 Diabetes.  The J used to stand for Juvenile, and the organization used to be called the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation but they changed their name to just an acronym because the disease was renamed and because people of all ages live with it."  I'm guessing his eyes would have glazed over pretty quickly.

So I simply donated and said,  "Absolutely.  And thank you for asking.  My daughter has diabetes and JDRF's research means a lot to us."

In A Nutshell

We've all had this experience.  Maybe it's with a new aquaintance at playgroup or at a little league game.  It could be a curious bystander at the gym or the office.  Perhaps it happens when running into an old friend at a party, or a long-lost relative over the holidays.  Whatever the circumstances, this person wants to know about your, or your loved one's, diabetes.

"How's she doing with that?"

"Is it under control?"

"What's that like to deal with?"

How to answer these well-meaning questions?  Ideally, the asker will come away more knowledgeable about Type 1 Diabetes.  The asker will feel compassion for you and/or your child. The asker will understand how un-simple these seemingly simple questions are.

Sometimes circumstances require a quick answer.  My stock response is a variation on this theme: "It isn't easy.  Every day is a little different. We have to work hard at it, but she's usually good about everything and we keep up with it all as best we can."  Vague?  Very.  Yet it clarifies that, no, it's never 'under control,' it's a daily challenge to 'deal with,' but that we're 'doing' o.k. with it all.

Sometimes this ends the conversation, particularly with complete strangers or very new aquaintances.  More often there is a specific follow-up question.  Common ones include:

How often does she have to check her blood sugar?

Are there things she can't eat?

Does she have to wear the insulin pump all the time?

Somehow I'm never prepared for how surprised people are by my answers.  That my daughter pricks her finger at least eight times every day and that we must do complicated math problems for every meal are just part of our reality.  Of course we get up every night to keep track of her blood sugar.  Yes she does indeed have to visit the school nurse's office at least twice a day.

As much as I'd like to, it always seems too much to lead with these little bits of our reality.  They certainly give a much clearer picture of what our days are like, but they're hard to consolidate into a quick, simple answer.

I'm often left wondering how others answer these questions.  Feel free to comment if you have a way you've found to sum up your 24/7 diabetes life in a nice little nutshell.

I Didn't Mean To Be Rude

As a parent of a child with diabetes who is not constantly within 50 yards of me, I am dependent upon my cell phone.

It is within earshot whenever my daughter is not.

I'm incredibly grateful for this technology.  It allows me to be out and about doing my thing while she's doing hers.

The issue is that my cell phone rings often.  When it does, no matter where I am or what I am doing, I need to pay attention to it.  If it is the school or my daughter calling, I need to answer it.

As a result,

I am the woman blocking the aisle in the grocery store while completely focused on her phone conversation.

I am the woman texting during the concert.

I am the woman who didn't politely interact with the cashier at Target.

I am the woman answering her phone while on a date with her husband at a quiet romantic restaurant.

I am the woman texting in the dentist's chair.

I am the woman whose phone call interrupted the meeting. Twice.

When I am able, I make a quiet apology for the interruption my phone use has caused.  Sometimes, if
I know the situation could repeat itself, such as in a meeting, or during a long dental procedure, I'll briefly explain my behavior. 

More often those around me are left assuming I'm just terribly inconsiderate.  To those fellow restaurant patrons, concert goers, and grocery shoppers, I offer the following by way of explanation:

I'm sorry for altering the romantic atmosphere/creating a brief moment of light in the dark theater/standing in front of your favorite cereal.  It was my daughter on the phone.  She has diabetes.  She was calling because she had a low blood sugar/her pump was alarming/someone brought cupcakes for the class.  She needed immediate medical advice. 

I didn't mean to be rude.

Bits and Pieces 2

A few things caught my eye this week:

Check out this video about a model explaining the Hemoglobin A1C test.  It's a 3-D educational tool which shows how glucose molecules stick to hemoglobin.  Being very much a visual learner, I'd love to see one of these on the endocrinologist's desk, so that he could use it to explain the somewhat mysterious number we discuss at each visit.  If you like it, vote and you may see it at your doctor's office soon!

It was great to see Charlie Kimball appear on the Today show talking about indy car racing but also about howType 1 Diabetes shouldn't stop anyone from pursuing their dreams. 

I have found kindred spirits in parents of children with food allergies. We've huddled together at many a birthday party or school event obsessively reading labels or unwrapping the substitute treats we've provided for the occasion. This New York Times Magazine Article describes the results of an ongoing study treating children with multiple food allergies.  One of the intriguing aspects of the article comes towards the end, and involves a ten year old girl who began the study with such severe allergies to so many familiar food items including dairy, wheat, peanuts, nuts and eggs that she had a full-time aide at school.  By the end of her time in the study she was able to eat almost everything she was once allergic to.  Yet she often chose not to.  Partly, there was still a lingering fear.  She also wonders if the people around her would think she had been dishonest about how severe her condition origionally was.  It brings up questions about how diabetes defines those who have it. How would a potential cure or less hands-on treatment affect how people with diabetes are viewed? How would it affect the way they view themselves?

It's always encouraging to be reminded there are people out there researching, advocating and serving as role models for kids (and maybe adults too) with diabetes.

Bits And Pieces

I've run across a few bits and pieces on the internet which will, perhaps, be of interest:

Lee Ann Thrill has started the VIAL Project, a website designed for people with type 1 diabetes and mild to severe food and body issues.  If disordered eating and/or body image issues are part of your or your loved one's experience with diabetes, please check this project out.

Tandem Diabetes and JDRF are working together on a new 'dual-chambered' insulin pump, explained nicely here on DiabetesMine.  As I understand it with my limited grasp of things technological, one chamber is for insulin, the other for another pancreas-related hormone such as symlin or glucagon.  I just picked up the glucagon refill and considered again how complicated the mixing of it is, and how terrifying the needle is.  Boy wouldn't a little resevoir of it right in the pump be awesome?  And of course, this is another step towards the closed loop artificial pancreas we're all waiting for.

Lastly, from the 'diabetes role models' department, this was a nice piece about Jay Cutler on Yahoo Sports.  He is the quarterback for the Chicago Bears and a sports hero to many, including Ruby, our stuffed bear with diabetes.

It's encouraging, I think, to learn what people are doing when it comes to diabetes. These three bits represent but a tiny sample of those out there doing their part to help.

Blue Fridays!

It's Diabetes Awareness month.  One of the simplest things we can do is to wear blue every Friday, and also on World Diabetes Day, November 14th.

You can find out more about this initiative, and upload a picture of yourself wearing your blue, on the Blue Fridays Facebook Page.

Wearing blue creates the opportunity to initiate conversation about the issues diabetes poses in our lives.  It also creates a sense of solidarity. 

Wear your blue this month to show that we're all in this together.