A Test Strip Story for World Diabetes Day

 

"Hey look- it's a test strip. It's not the kind I use."

 

 

This is a zoomed-in shot, and cropped. The test strip was virtually hidden in the sidewalk crack at the busy amusement park. Yet it caught my daughter's eye.

 

Finding a test strip "in the wild" meant that another person with diabetes had been there.

Whose was it? Was its user still around? Did the blood sugar it recorded require a $4 soda from the snack stand or a break from the rides? Was the person local or travelling? Type 1 or Type 2? Newly diagnosed or an old pro? Comfortable with diabetes care on the run or not?

We had a distinct curiosity about, and sense of kinship with, whoever dropped that strip.

Other people with diabetes, even complete strangers, hold a special place in our hearts.

The same sense of connection fuels my interest in World Diabetes Day. There are millions of people around the globe living millions of very different kinds of diabetes lives. But they're all living them because Dr. Frederick Banting, born 126 years ago today, discovered and bottled insulin.

What, I wonder, are their struggles? Successes? Stories?

Do they think about being part of a global diabetes community, and if so does it give them the same sense of hope it gives us?

It's November...Diabetes Awareness Month! My plan for this month involves stories. Simple, everyday, real-life stories about living with diabetes. I plan to tell them here as narratives, like this one, just snippets of a day with diabetes, and I plan to tell them, or stories like them, more often in the 'real world' this month when friends ask, 'How's it going,' or relatives ask what I've been up to.  



 

 

Look at That!

"The lady with the Omnipod is still at the pool with her kids most days," my daughter reported the other night.

"And there was another woman there. She had a pump clipped to her bikini top but the tubing was connected to her hip.  It would make sense if the site was in her arm maybe. It looked uncomfortable to me.  Or like you could accidentally yank it out with your own arm somehow- but whatever I guess...it's up to her."

It's summer again, which is prime pump-sighting season, especially at the pool and the beach.

Last years' beach vacation tally was 2 dexcoms and an Omnipod.  Our town pool tally was 2 omnipods and a tubed pump a little too far way to identify the brand of.  Walking around various cities and towns added 3 more pumps that I can remember. 

We've never spoken to any of these people about their devices.

But we always speak to each other about them. "That guy has something on his stomach...over there by the purple striped umbrella...is it a Dexcom or an Omnipod?" Or "That lady's making me nervous standing knee deep in the water- over there near the jetty- I think that's a Medtronic pump, right- those aren't waterproof are they? The tide's coming in fast." We discuss where the devices are worn, attempts to disguise them or not, and how far down the beach the people with diabetes walk without bringing a meter or a container of glucose tabs with them.

It's fascinating to watch other people with diabetes in the wild. It's also comforting since every sighting-spurred conversation boils down to this: "Hey- look- there's another person with diabetes just living life," and especially at the beach or the pool, "and having fun."

Murky

My twitter feed has been weird for the past couple of weeks.

I use Twitter to follow diabetes-related accounts and current events.

The tweets from the news accounts and politicians are usually easily distinguishable from those from diabetes organizations and bloggers. 'Earthquake rocks Italy' and 'Mayor jailed' fall into an obviously different bucket from 'Drowsy from a 3 juicebox night' and 'Just passed the 30 minute mark on hold with insurance co.'

I now have to take a closer look. Was the tweet about the cost of insulin a Bernie Sanders quote or was it from the American Diabetes Association? Will the link to the article on repealing the affordable care act take me to the New York Times or to a Blogger site? Is the anxious political tweet from a political commentator or from a person with diabetes afraid of losing her health insurance ?

It's getting very murky.

Diabetes People

We were very fortunate to find a parent support group shortly after my daughter's diabetes diagnosis. People in that group were also involved with the local JDRF chapter and I got involved there too. Once we got our heads above water with the help and support of both of those organizations I found myself able to turn around and help others. I encouraged the next round of newly-diagnosed families at the support group meetings. I got involved in planning and running a local JDRF walk. In the three years after diagnosis, personal contact with other 'diabetes people' was a big part of my life.

Then, because of a lay-off and a subsequent job opportunity, we moved back to the area where I grew up. We continued to participate in JDRF walks, and I did help with walks at the elementary school, but my contact with our local chapter was minimal. There was not a parent support group in the area. We were fortunate to know a couple of nearby families with T1D and so had, and continue to have, an informal network of information and support. I found the diabetes online community, and there found both personal support and a way to be supportive of others by starting this blog. For a while that was enough.

Now, though, I'm feeling a pull.

I'm still incredibly grateful for those moms and dads I met during the first months after diagnosis. Having those conversations provided a framework for how we still live with diabetes today. There's nothing like sharing stories, laughs, information or tears with people who have faced the same challenges.

In lieu of New Years Resolutions, I tend to think of something I'd like give some extra energy to over the course of the year.  Some years it's practical, like learning new recipes or starting a vegetable garden. Some years it's more social, like sending thank-you notes for even the littlest of gestures. This year?

I'll be looking for ways to spend more time with other 'diabetes people.'



 

JDRF Sneaker Campaign

 

 

My photo of this sign is not as clear as I'd like it to be.  It reads:

 

A cure for Amanda means.... "A cure means no more finger pricks and shots.  I don't have to tell anyone I have type 1 diabetes anymore."

 

Each register at my local Marshalls had a sign like this, featuring a different kid, ranging in ages from 3 to 18, talking about what a cure would mean. 

 

What a great way to personalize the ask. It's eye-catching, with just enough text to read while waiting for the cashier to ring up purchases.  It's effective in explaining why, and for whom, a donation matters.

 

As it happened, I'd already spent several minutes of my Marshalls trip on the phone with my own person who needs a cure. I'd had already promised to purchase a paper sneaker on her behalf so that maybe someday she wouldn't have to call me from school with a blood sugar problem, because those problems would no longer exist. By the time I got to the register I needed no further motivation to put my name on a paper sneaker.

 

For people who don't receive personal phone calls from people with diabetes while they're shopping at Marshalls, I think this is a great addition to the annual sneaker campaign.

 

 

Locked

On the first day of outdoor gym, after running increasingly fast sprints for half an hour, my daughter's blood sugar was low.  She grabbed a friend and went to tell the teacher.  The teacher, apparently a man of few words, pointed to my daughter's friend and said in what my daughter describes as a deep, gruff voice, "You. Take her to the nurse."

So off they went, to the door from which they had exited the building.  Locked.

They tried the 2 other doors on that side of the building.

Locked.

As they debated whether to go back to the gym class (a couple of hundred yards away) or to go to the building's front door which has an intercom system (maybe a bit closer but out of sight of the gym class), someone discovered them trying to get in and opened a door.

Yesterday there was more running outside and, despite an interim round of insulin adjusting, another low. 

"You. Take her to the nurse."

"Is the door unlocked?"

"Go to the front."

They were buzzed in.  Ten minutes later, still in the nurse's office, my daughter heard the bell ring.  She was still wearing her gym clothes and all of her belongings were still in the locker room which, they had been told, was locked when nobody was in it.  The nurse walked her to the gym (her bg was still 60) where the locker room was, indeed, locked. 

As my daughter wondered what her next move should be, the gym teacher of few words appeared . Unlocking the door, he asked,  "You wear a pump?"

"Yes and a dexcom- it's a continuous glucose monitor."

"Does it go to your phone?"  (Wait- what?  Does this guy speak my language, however succinctly?)

"No but my new one will."

"My niece has that."

"Cool.  Thanks for unlocking the door."

Gym blood sugar management may take a while to sort out and there are probably more impeding locks to contend with.  But at least we've learned that the gym teacher of few words gets it.  Even if he's a little brusque about it.

Why Am I Doing This Anyway?

Message Monday - Monday 5/16 Lets kick off the week by talking about why we are here, in the diabetes blog space. What is the most important diabetes awareness message to you? Why is that message important for you, and what are you trying to accomplish by sharing it on your blog? (Thank you, Heather Gabel, for this topic suggestion.)

A half a mile into a windy and drizzly JDRF Walk my two year old daughter turned around in her stroller and asked, "why are we doing this anyway?" 

"To raise money to help people find ways to make having diabetes easier and to eventually make it so people don't have diabetes at all anymore," I replied.

Satisfied, she turned back around and enjoyed the overhang feature of her stroller which was keeping her dry.

Her question still rings in my head in a variety of circumstances. When engaged in any endeavor, either as an individual or as part of a group or organization, it's important to know, 'why are we doing this anyway.'  Essentially, today's diabetes blog week topic translated in my head to, 'why are you writing this blog anyway?'

The answer is similar to the one I gave my daughter about the JDRF walk.  While I can't cure diabetes with a blog, I hope I can make it easier.  Difficult situations are easier when there is someone to share the journey with.  The best people to share a difficult journey with are often those who've been there before.  Not everyone has a collection of people in their neighborhood who are also raising kids with diabetes.  Even those who spend time with others in the same boat may be looking for alternate perspectives and ideas. 

That's why I'm doing this.  The 'diabetes awareness message,' as the prompt calls it, that I'm trying to get out there is, 'you're not alone.'  See also, 'I'm not alone.'

While I sometimes write about advocacy issues and current diabetes-related events, I mostly try to share everyday stories about our everyday life with diabetes.  More specifically, I write stories about a girl between the ages of 9 and14 and her parents, with occasional flashbacks to the earlier years. These are stories about school, hanging out with friends, what we had for dinner, vacations, afterschool activities, and stuffed animals. These are stories about how diabetes factors into the every day life of a kid and her family.  I write because I hope someone out there is nodding her head and saying, 'me too.'  I write because I hope someone out there is scratching his head and saying, 'I never thought about it that way.'  I write because it makes me feel less alone on this journey too.

For other bloggers' thoughts on why they are doing this anyway, click here!

The Seemingly Impossible

What parent hasn't wondered about at least one of these scenarios:

-Mary will still be in diapers in middle school.
-I hope they make Velcro baseball cleats because Jonny's never going to learn to tie his laces.
-Why is Susie the only child who hasn't mastered scissors? 

Likewise, the diabetes parent list:

-Bobby better go to college nearby since I'll be there every few days to help with his site change.
-I don't see how Matt can go to Kindergarten without me being in the building with him all day.
-Guess I'll be Ellie's prom date since she'll need help counting her carbs at dinner. 

As I began to write a few paragraphs about last week's school field trip, during which my daughter admirably calculated carbohydrates and dosed insulin for unfamiliar Spanish food from a buffet table, I felt like I was bragging. It felt selfish to celebrate the success.

But I thought some more and realized that my goal was not to brag at all. My goal was to admit that until very recently, I thought this might never be possible.

When I share the story of the successful field trip I'm remembering the dozens of field trips I've attended to keep her safe.  I'm remembering the hours, over the course of years, she's spent learning to be comfortable with counting carbs.  I'm remembering surviving the anxiety of the first times she ate somewhere without me.  I'm remembering all of the other diabetes 'all by myself' milestones she's passed over the years. I'm remembering that while she's survived all of them: the first low when I wasn't around, going to school, the birthday party, the sleepover, calculating restaurant carbs by herself, and so many more, I continue to assume that the next one will never happen.

I do get glimmers of hope, though. Blog posts about kids who've survived a gymnastics themed birthday party, changed their own sites, or gone on an overnight trip with another family have, over the years, led me to believe that these may be possible for my kid too.  Blogs written by adults living with diabetes give a glimpse into the future.  These people seem to be caring for their diabetes completely independently while simultaneously having productive lives, families, and fun adventures. Reading these stories reminds me that these days will come for my daughter despite all of the reasons I irrationally assume they might not.

When I share the story of the Spanish trip, or the site change or the sleepover I do so because maybe someone else out there needs a glimmer of hope; a reminder that the seemingly impossible may one day actually happen.

I've Been There.

What would make a new diabetes diagnosis easier for people?

The question has been rattling around in my head for a couple of months now.  Two events triggered it.  First, a friend's 8 year old relative was diagnosed. That event brought up all kinds of memories for me, and thoughts about what it must be like for them to enter this strange new world.  Also this winter, my dad was hospitalized for a very different type of issue, orthopedic in nature, but we had the familiar experience of being in a medical setting where people were speaking a language they  knew well and with which we were unfamiliar; and of being in a situation in which many aspects of life changed in a heartbeat with a long adjustment to follow. 

In the first few days after his hospital admission, my dad talked often about both staff and friends who had shared their experiences with his particular diagnosis.  A doctor had experienced the same injury and told of his recovery.  A friend said it took him at least six months to get back to normal.  A therapist knew someone who had benefitted from a particular kind of treatment.  There were, of course, conversations with the professionals about scan results, and medication options.  There were prognosis trajectories to be understood and discharge plans to weigh.  But in the end, it seemed particularly important to the patient to hear the stories of people who had been in his shoes. 

We were very fortunate that my daughter was first treated for diabetes at an excellent hospital and that we were able to return there for her ongoing care with an exceptionally knowledgeable team.  But what do I remember of that week and of the weeks following?  I remember talking with the nurse on the unit who had diabetes and who said  many reassuring things.  I remember every little word of practical and emotionally encouraging wisdom from our first CDE who also happened to have diabetes.  I remember being incredibly reluctant to attend a local support group and then feeling incredibly comforted once I got there. 

Several years ago, an eight year old girl we love was diagnosed.  The day after she returned home from the hospital, we were there.  We did not bring reading materials (well maybe a Calorie King book).  We did not discuss meter brands, or insulin to carb ratios.  We brought a set of colorful measuring cups, Clifford juice boxes, sugar-free jello jigglers and ourselves.  And we sat in their living room with them and listened. And we told them our stories.  We let them know we'd been in their shoes. They could see we'd made it out of the woods. 

There are few more comforting words than, "I've been there," especially when they're followed by, "and I promise it will get better."  This kind of support happens sporadically, with JDRF's bags of hope and with other, more local programs, but somehow even though we were at a major hospital in a big city, we were not formally hooked up with any peer to peer support upon my daughter's diagnosis.  How could that kind of reassurance become a bigger part of more people's stories?

Food: It's What's for Eating

An 8 year old relative of a friend of mine was recently diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  A couple of weeks post-diagnosis, my friend e-mailed saying that the family is really struggling with what to feed him.  He was previously very much a junk-food fan.  What ideas and advice did I have?

My initial e-mail response was lengthy and probably a little confusing.  It's such a complicated and loaded question.

My first response was to look for good articles and posts on my favorite blogs and websites.  After twenty minutes of that, I found twenty different ideas of how best to eat with diabetes.  No wonder they and so many other newly-diagnosed families are confused. 

I imagine the hospital team sent them home with a meal planning guide and some hand-outs about carbohydrate counting and the value of consuming protein and carbs together.  He's on injections for now, so limiting the injections is part of meal planning too.  But he's 8.  And everything's different.  And he'd probably really like a big stack of pringles and a snickers bar.

So here's what I said in a nutshell, hopefully more well-thought out this time (I'll be sure to get them the link to this post):

1. If nothing else, count the carbs.  Learn how to read the labels, learn the carb ratio, learn the math and give the insulin.  A snickers bar is not an apple.  French fries aren't steamed brown rice.  But if you give the right amount of insulin for them, his blood sugar won't spike astronomically and you'll be learning and practicing the carb counting skills which will be the basis of diabetes care for the foreseeable future.

2. Rome wasn't built in a day.  Protein plus carbs is great.  The combination streamlines the blood sugar levels.  Vegetables, fruits, whole grains and low-fat proteins are important too.  Foods with fiber affect the blood sugar less than straight white bread.  BUT eating is great too, and sometimes compromise is necessary.  I had a child who ate nothing but cold cereal, milk, chicken nuggets, goldfish crackers, baby carrots, sugar free jello jigglers and animal crackers for several months of her toddlerhood.  She lived to tell the tale.  Not only that, but this weekend she ate Moroccan spiced chicken stew with whole wheat couscous on Saturday night and roast salmon, salad with balsamic dressing and a brown rice medley on Sunday night.  We actively chose (after a few weeks of frustration) not to force the food issue when she was 2.  Now she's a good healthy eater, because that's the way her parents eat and she slowly learned that a variety of foods are delicious. 

3. Dessert is okay.  We never stopped having treats.  One cookie instead of 3?  Yes.  Parsing out the Halloween candy over a couple of weeks.  Absolutely.  She had animal crackers and a glass of milk most nights until she was 5 or so.  Eventually, other cookies, frozen treats and brownies began to be included in the mix.  Holiday pies and birthday cakes have never been forbidden.  As a result, (I think) I have a kid who has rarely snuck extra treats or cried because she was left out of a celebration. 

Should this newly diagnosed kid be eating a scrambled egg wrap for breakfast, bean soup for lunch and a plate with 2 veggies, lean protein and whole grains for dinner?  Probably.  Should his primary treat be roasted almonds?  Yup.  But he's 8.  And his world just turned upside down.  And no kid or adult really eats like that anyway (well- very few, and they're probably not the happiest people). 

In the real world, balance is necessary. This newly diagnosed kid should be eating the healthiest combination of foods he's willing to eat on a daily basis.  He should be learning about good nutrition from his family, his healthcare team, and others who care about him.  He should be learning to read a nutrition label with help from adults, so that he can take the right amount of insulin for whatever he eats.  He should be learning about low carb and carb-free snacks he can eat when he's hungry but doesn't want to take an injection.  Meanwhile, his favorite foods should remain available and he and his family should learn how to cover the carbs in them. And he should have the occasional junk food if he wants it.  Having diabetes is hard enough as it is.

The Screen as a Diabetes Management Tool

This article, Tech Can Be a Boost to Teens' Diabetes Self-Management, crossed my twitter feed this week.  It lists five specific technologies used by kids with diabetes: social networks, texting, mobile diabetes apps, diabetes-focused websites and pump or meter software. Our household's experience mirrors the positive results of technology on diabetes management found in the study.

The most used technology for management in our family is texting.  I get texts from parties and visits to friends' houses.  A mystery food has appeared- here's a picture and would I help guess the carbs?  She knows she'll be tired when she gets home but wants us to remember to do site change since she's down to 8 units.  She's low and has treated it but needs a virtual hug.  She's awake the morning after the sleepover- I can enjoy my coffee in peace. Texting is a quick and inconspicuous way to ask me for advice, help and support.

We do a little less with software. When we get around to downloading the Dexcom, looking at those numbers together does help her buy into any changes we need to talk about making.  She can see, for example,  the daily spike after breakfast and (at least for a few days) will be more likely to bolus before starting to make breakfast instead of as the food is entering her mouth.  This calendar year will bring 'Dexcom Share' to our family's cell phones, which I imagine will also increase awareness and communication. 

Social media is, to me, the most interesting tool.  It's where the intangible boost comes from. My daughter will share memes with me from accounts she follows on Instagram.  I'll send along blog posts or let her read funny tweets I come across.  She's not learning any specific treatment tips from her Instagram feed. Instead, she's getting support, encouragement and a sense of community.  She's able to see that there's a whole world of people out there living well with the wins and losses, laughter and tears, and the endless daily grind of diabetes. 

Being able to text me questions allows for better blood sugar control even with increased independence. Being able to visualize blood sugar trends allows us to work together to attempt to improve them.  But knowing that there are all those people out there who have so many of the same diabetes-related experiences she does?  That might be the most important boost to self-management: a healthy perspective on the whole mess.

Two - Many Favorites

Yesterday was the day for 'Continuing Connections' to conclude Diabetes Blog Week.  My delay is two fold:

Yesterday got away from me- it was a gorgeous Sunday packed with activities.

Secondly, and more to the point, I always have a hard time with this d-blog week topic.  I'm never able to read everything and therefore fear that my REAL favorite is still lurking somewhere on a link list waiting to be read.  I also don't want to leave anyone out who I've discovered or particularly enjoyed this week. Narrowing it down is difficult.

But narrow it down I will, to my two favorites from the Diabetes Personified category.  Both are from blogs I hadn't seen before.

From Bustin' Diabetes For Justin, Justin's own picture of diabetes was excellent.  And I love that his mom shared Justin's own words to go with it.  Diabetes is, indeed, "a poop head evil jerk."

Sweet and Sour- The Type 1 Diabetes Roller Coaster compares her diabetes to Moaning Myrtle of Harry Potter fame.   I like the thought that despite all of  Myrtle's faults, there are things we learn to like about her.

To see other bloggers' favorites, click HERE for the link list!

Spare A Rose

Roses are red

Violets are blue

I'd rather have insulin

Wouldn't you?

The average cost of a rose for Valentine's Day is $5.

The cost to supply a month's worth of insulin to a child in a developing country is $5.

Spare a rose this Valentine's Day and give a child access to life-saving insulin.  Share the love.

How?  Click here.  It's easy.  

Midnight Three & Six

This link will bring you to a New York Times op ed documentary called 'Midnight Three & Six.'  The video is about 11 minutes long.  If you haven't seen it, go ahead and watch.  We'll be here when you get back.

In a nutshell, this is a strikingly produced documentary depicting one family's experience with type 1 diabetes.  This family's experience has been scary for them.  The daughter, Grace, experiences hypoglycemia unawareness.  She has lost peers to the disease.  The family is genuinely afraid that Grace will die from her diabetes.  They are vigilant. They are anxious. They are overwhelmed.  The long silences and dim lighting speak volumes about this family's experience.

Take a moment and go back to sample a few comments if you haven't already done so. Perhaps you've also seen some commentary from the diabetes online community. What concerns me are the negative comments from other people and families living with Type 1 Diabetes. There were comments from people who never check at night asserting this hypervigilance was uncalled for; ones from people who found fault with the depth of the family's fear; ones from people who believe a CGM will solve all the household's problems; and ones asserting that diabetes isn't really that bad and that these people should get over it and move on with life. There are concerns that this film does not accurately depict life with diabetes. Maybe you thought some of the same things.

To me it seems important to remember that this is a filmed snapshot of a real family and their very unique experience with this disease.  The number of deaths this family has experienced from Type 1 diabetes is alarming.  If I knew 4 kids who had died of diabetes in the past 5 years I might never sleep again.  The mom tells us that Grace's blood sugars are unpredictable.  I'll take that to mean 'more unpredictable than normal' and go on to note Grace's age of 15 which comes with its own very unique set of challenges. They are, like the rest of us, doing the best they can with the information, skills and help they have available to them.

Do we live with diabetes exactly like this family does? Does this film accurately depict the details of how we cope with this disease? Of course not.  But their life is not foreign to me.  I jumped every time the mom's alarm clock rang because it makes the same sound as mine does in the middle of the night.  My daughter drinks Clifford juice boxes too.  Grace's concern about stopping to check her blood sugar while being filmed made me smile since I'm sure my daughter would have asked if it was o.k. too.

I wonder what kind of commentary would come my way should a documentary be made about our life with diabetes.  I'm sure there are ways we do and think about things which differ widely from others' perceived 'right way.'  We're not perfect.  But we, like this family in Texas, have been handed the impossible job description of 'acting pancreas.'  No film could ever depict the multitude of ways people end up acting and feeling when the diabetes diagnosis is handed over or in the years that follow. I can only guarantee you that nobody is perfect at it.  We can only do our best.

Everybody's Different

Sometimes I feel as though we're the only family who does not yet use a Continuous Glucose Monitoring System.  Though we're inching closer.

If not, then I'm certaily the only parent of a child with diabetes who has not read and highlighted every one of Gary Schneider's books.

Unless we're battling something significant or dangerous, I don't stay up all night checking blood sugars. If my daughter's number is 200 at 2 a.m., I'll give a small correction and go back to sleep. Shhh.

Does anyone else out there feed their child (gasp!) cereal in the morning?

Are we the only family who's never been to Friends For Life?

I'm guessing I'm not alone.  Everybody's different.  It's what makes the world go 'round, in a general sense for sure.  It's what makes the diabetes blogosphere so great too.  We read eachother's opinions.  Sometimes we find soulmates who are quite like us.  Sometimes we get talked into trying a new tactic, or file an idea away for a particular situation.  Sometimes we're left scratching our heads.  But it's all good because regardless, we're made better by sharing our thoughts and ideas with eachother.

It's 'leave a comment day' in the diabetes blogosphere. If you identify with any of the above, leave a comment and let me know I'm not alone.  If you think I'd be better off for changing my ways, let me know that too.  I know you'll be nice about it.  Or do you have thoughts about how our differences make the blogging world better? Or if that's all too much, just tell me your favorite summer beverage...that's easy, no? Whatever it is, bring it on.  I'm looking forward to reading your thoughts!

Bits and Pieces 4

It's been a busy week with a busy upcoming weekend.  My thoughts are scattered and it feels impossible to create an entire post about one topic.  So here are a few bits and pieces of what's on my mind:

 

My daughter had her standardized testing this week, which went better than it has other years, diabetes-wise.   She's tired of peanut butter whole wheat toast every morning, but there was no repeat of the infamous 3rd grade nurse's office workout.  I think we have a test-day breakfast winner.

 

A new favorite product is Gatorade's G2.  We bought it to aid in recovery from a stomach bug, but it's become a must for softball games too.  With something like seven carbs per 12 ounces, it's just the thing for both a sick, dehydrated kid and a budding athlete.

 

Check out the Diabetes Co-Stars Video from Sandofi. It provides 3 snippets of life with diabetes with a focus on who provides support.  As a bonus, after 10,000 views, Sandofi will donate $10,000 to the Diabetes Hands Foundation.

Last but certainly not least, 'who's your diabetes co-star' would be a great question for Diabetes Blog Week next year.  For now, there are great prompts for all seven days next week plus two wildcards to choose from.  I'll be participating and can't wait to read the thoughts of my fellow bloggers.  Stay tuned!





 



 



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.

A New Friend

My daughter has a half hour break during her music program.  When they have time between classes, the kids sit in the hall.  They bring electronics, card games, books, or drawing paper.  Or they just chat. 

One day early last week, my child sat down in the hall and then overheard a mother say to the child next to her, "please check your blood sugar before I leave."

Unsure whether she'd heard correctly, my daughter turned to the girl and said, "Did I just hear your mom ask you to check your blood sugar?"

"Yes..."

"I have diabetes too!"

"Really?"

"Yup!"

By Saturday, we were at this family's house for a cook-out.

Friendships can and do form for many reasons.  My daughter has friends who share her interests in reading, or music, or softball.  She has friendships which have developed over many years of being in school together, because she and another child 'just click.'  She has made friends with children of my friends, finding common ground even though they did not choose each other.

Friendships based on diabetes, though, are unique.  My daughter spent hours last summer playing at our community pool with a girl who introduced herself after observing a blood sugar check.  The mother and I then spent hours talking about raising a kid with diabetes.

Finding someone who also lives with diabetes is like finding a kindred spirit. 

Maybe it's because diabetes touches so many aspects of our lives.  So by extension, people who have diabetes in common have many life experiences in common.

Maybe it's because when we start talking, we inevitably share those diagonsis stories.  Most people begin a friendship discussing their work, or hobbies, or the latest town gossip.  We delve right into what for many is high on the list of the most emotional and traumatic moments of their lives.  It creates an instant bond.

Maybe it's akin to being in a foreign country and meeting someone who speaks your language.  You're suddenly at ease.  All the thoughts which are constantly cooped up in your head in 'diabetes-ese' can flow freely from your mouth for others to understand.  It's comforting.

We count among our friends many people whose lives are touched by diabetes.  Some of these friendships have been around a long time and deepened after diabetes became part of our lives.  Some of them are brand new.  All of them are wonderful people who we're, ironically, really grateful we have this bond with. 

Summer is a great time to meet new diabetes friends.  There's less clothing to cover those sites.  We're out and about more, checking and treating at the pool, beach, park or restaurant.  Maybe there are more friends to come!

My Old Friends

This afternoon required a quick stop at the grocery store.  I mindlessly traveled through the aisles picking up a few standard items which I likely could find there with my eyes closed.

I quickly found an empty check-out line, and put my items on the counter.  As I walked down to the end, I saw it:  A stack of blue sneakers with a pen. 

It was like running into someone I knew but not being able to place them because this was not where I usually encountered them.  My initial reaction was pure happiness at seeing these old blue friends, followed by a few moments of confusion.

'But it's not walk season.'

'They've never done sneakers here before.'

'They weren't here over the weekend.'

'I wonder what made them decide to do this.'

As I bagged my groceries, the clerk asked, "Would you like to buy a sneaker to help people with diabetes?"

"Absolutely," I replied, enthusiastically enough to warrant a glance from the next cashier over.

As I signed my name, another employee walked by.  "You're on blue sneakers already!  How'd you do that?"  Apparently they'd each started with the same color and every time they finished a stack, they'd move on to the next.  My cashier had already been through yellow and green.

"I asked every customer to buy one," she replied.  "And they did."

"Thank you,"  I said.  "I have a daughter with diabetes and that really means a lot to me."

"My father had it too."

Each sneaker represents a donation of only a dollar to JDRF.  And every little conversation like this is only a drop in the bucket in terms of raising awareness about this disease.  Yet multiplied by the thousands of each of these which occur each day, the end result is progress. 

And that's why I was so happy to run into my old blue friends at the grocery store today.