A Short Roundup.

Things! Stuff! I have these! And the Corgi-to-other-things ratio is pretty high!

• So... rashes are a good time. I discovered one this morning, not from a pump or CGM site thank goodness, but it was mildly amusing that a bandaid I wore for eight hours (oh hi, gusher last night) does more damage to my skin than the CGM sensor adhesive (and Flexifix tape) that I wear for 19 days. Yay? I don't know how to feel about this.
• It occurred to me just this morning that I have three dishes to make for three different family gatherings (on on Wedneday night after work, and two on Thursday) and I have absolutely no idea what I'm making, or when I'm finding the time to make whatever those things will be. Happy Thanksgiving!
• Tell me Corgi puppies aren't the cutest dang thing you've ever seen.
• Okay, adult Corgis are pretty okay, too. This should surprise exactly none of you.
• Did you know that JDRF's Juvenation community has a new name? Go check it.
• I've been trying to keep up with the #NDAMphotoaday challenge, but I haven't been entirely successful. Follow me on Instagram (my profile is here), if you're not a robot made of spam.
• And if you'd like more coherent ramblings than this post, you'll find them in the form of contributions to the Timesulin site, the Glu community, and Insulet's "Suite D" blog.

Let's cap this off with some some more Corgi photos - this time, of one you might recognize. D'awww.

Excellent.

Guest Post: Diabetes and Anxiety.

Today's topic is a tough one, and I'd like to say first that I understand some people who live with anxiety find that talking or even reading about anxiety can serve as a trigger for symptoms. If that's you, please proceed in whatever way is most comfortable for you.

With that said...

Diabetes sometimes comes with "add-on" conditions; meaning that the prevalance of some conditions (such as depression, anxiety, hypothyroidism, or celiac) is statistically higher for those with diabetes, versus the general population.

Today marks the launch of a new community surrounding the topic of diabetes and anxiety, aptly named Anxious You Anxious Me, run by Alexis of "The Chronicles of D-Boy and Ribbon". To help jumpstart the conversation you'll find a group video on the You Can Do This Project site today in which Alexis, Hallie, and Kate share their personal stories and struggles with anxiety, and encourage others to talk about their own experiences.

I'm honored to share this post from Kate who is bravely sharing how anxiety affects every bit of life, including diabetes. It's a battle she's still waging, and I hope that talking about it is helpful. No one should have to deal with this alone.

* * * * *

"Peeking Through The Keyhole"

I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes 7 years ago, on the 4^th of October, 2005, at the age of thirteen. My journey with anxiety started roughly around a year and a half later, in the summer of 2007, when my Grandfather died. I called this blog post Peeking Through the Keyhole because anxiety is a very difficult thing to explain to somebody that has never experienced it before. So by my writing this, you will get a ‘keyhole’ view, a small portion of what life is like for somebody with anxiety and this is my story.

I was 15 years old and just finishing my third year in high school when my anxiety symptoms started. I became very cautious about who I started to hang out with. I always made sure there would be a friend in our group that knew how to help me if something went wrong with my blood sugar. I did this subconsciously at the time, not knowing the reason. I would avoid situations which I deemed ‘unsafe’ such as: Spending time with people that didn’t know one thing about diabetes. I would start snacking more ‘in case’ I had a low blood sugar. This particular feeling is difficult to describe. I just had this ‘feeling’ that something awful was going to go wrong with my blood sugar, or with me in general, and that I would die. I was terrified much of the time, then when my Grandfather died suddenly that summer, things rapidly spiralled out of control.

I remember driving home from school one day and having a conversation with myself in my head about my diabetes care. I was able to calm myself down when I didn’t take my insulin or test my blood sugar, because I knew that ruled out the possibility of me passing out. I remember telling myself this: “You either keep your sanity and be sick, or be healthy and insane.” I opted for keeping my sanity and being sick. That is where the story begins.  From that day on, things got intense. I stopped taking my insulin.  Checking my blood sugar was out the window. Not a chance. I would die if I did any of those things, surely.

To make a very, very long story short – here are the main issues I faced on a daily basis:

I couldn’t let my Mam leave the house without me. If she tried to, I would physically drag her arm, screaming and crying, not letting her leave unless she brought me with her.

I hated driving in the car. I was afraid the car would breakdown and we would be stranded. I was afraid we’d be left there for hours and I’d have no food or insulin and that I would die. I never let my parents drive under a half tank of petrol – and if I got scared and they wouldn’t pull the car over – again, I would physically yank their arm off the wheel in order to try and get them to start driving.

I couldn’t stay in school. I lived a twenty minute drive from my school which was nothing. I loved school and I generally felt very safe there. I had a great relationship with my friends and teachers and I loved everything about it. But for two years I couldn’t stay in school at all unless one of my parents were outside in the car. All day, in all weather. I knew then if anything happened to me, I could just run straight out and be with them in seconds.

Sleep was non-existent. I would constantly stay awake and eat. I didn’t gain any weight because I didn’t take any insulin. If I did fall asleep, I would wake up panicking, darting around the house looking for someone so that I could calm down and know that I wasn’t by myself in the house.

Those are just day to day things, things that ‘normal’ people do. Now throw Diabetes into the mix. If I saw a blood sugar below 16 mmol/l (320 mg/dL), I would have a massive panic attack and drink glucose drinks and disconnect my pump. If my eyes started stinging or if I realised I wasn’t thirsty, I’d have a panic attack because I knew my blood sugar was coming down. Somehow, I never once went into DKA. I knew when ketones were forming and I would take maybe 1 or 2 units to take the edge off so I didn’t have to go into hospital. Most days I went fully disconnected from the pump. That went on for about four months before my parents realised. After that, I forced myself to keep it on because they made sure I had it on all the time – and I realised how much better I felt when I was getting some insulin.

And of course, I was lying the entire time about everything, leading people on to believe I was doing fine and that I was healthy. I never had any energy, I always just wanted to sleep, and I constantly peed and downed water.

In 2009 I developed an incredibly painful abscess.  On my butt. You heard. It wasn’t pleasant and I had to have surgery. The exact cause of the abscess was: “Uncontrolled Diabetes.” My blood sugar was so high all the time that my body couldn’t cope and this abscess occurred. I spent a couple of days in the ICU after having surgery to remove this abscess, and because of its size and depth, I very nearly almost died. It was the most painful, frightening experience I have ever been through.

Fast forward to now, 2012. Things are better for me now. I realised that I had a problem that I couldn’t fix all by myself. I sought help from counsellors, psychiatrists and doctors. I started being truthful and telling people I was struggling and couldn’t cope. I met great, wonderful friends in the DOC that, to this day, are the reason I am sitting here typing this. I am not where I want to be right now.

For the most part, my day to day life, anxiety-wise, is very manageable. I still have my struggles with diabetes. I rarely test, and I just take enough insulin to keep me feeling somewhat functional. I am working (albeit from home) socialising a lot more, and enjoying life more, looking forward to tomorrow. I am starting to believe, thanks to friends, that I have the strength to beat anxiety. This is why we created Anxious You Anxious Me. People don’t talk enough about anxiety. I have laid it out here because I know I am amongst friends. A lot of times, people think that if you suffer from anxiety, you are being dramatic or looking for attention. But that is not the case.

The point I want to get across strongly to you is: I’m not lazy. I’m not suicidal. I don’t want to die or be sick. The anxiety has this grip on me that I really take out on my diabetes care. Outsiders and some friends think I’m being a lazy diabetic by not testing and eating junk. But really I’m doing it to get through each minute because sometimes I just don’t know what else to do.

For some people, anxiety is just as real and prominent as diabetes. Sometimes, anxiety wins, I eat that bar of chocolate or that regular coke and don’t bolus. But I can relax and feel safe. Sometimes, diabetes wins, and I test and bolus for my meal and tell myself it’ll be alright. It’s something else I live every day with and try to juggle amongst other ‘real-people’ life situations.  I’m glad that now thanks to the DOC, I don’t need to do it alone. 

Now, you don’t have to do it alone either. If you have anxiety, talk about it. You’re not crazy, you’re not delusional, and you’re not sick.

* * * * *

Thank you, Kate, for having the courage to put out in the open something so personal. 

Guest Post: The Weight.

Today, I'm so very pleased to bring you a post from Kate - a fellow d-blogger with type 1 diabetes whose posts always leave me chuckling. (You'll see what I mean in a minute.) Thank you for sharing both your words and these adorable pictures of you and your husband, Kate. :)

* * * * *

First of all, thank you, thank you, Kim!!! For reading my blog, and asking me to guest post. I am honored to be posting on one of my absolute favorite and resourceful dia-blogs, and am excited to reach and connect with a whole bunch of new peeps in the DOC.

Secondly, if anyone is a tried-and-true Muppet fan like I am: I can't help but imagine Kermit, instead of introducing the guest star on each show, introducing me like this, complete with flailing arms, here:

"It's the Muppet Show, with our very special guest blogger, Kaaaaate Boylaaaannn! YAYAYAYayayayayAYyYAY!"

My imagination is far too active sometimes.

[Tiny voice in the back of my head: "Get back to the post, Kate."]

[Kate: "Oh, yeah. Right. That's why I'm here.]

[Tiny voice: And, keep it short.]

[Kate: Can't promise anything. Stop talking so I can get to it.]

 Soooo, I've been thinking a lot about weight recently.

Body weight: Since age eighteen, when I decided to give my shoulders a rest and stop competing in the pool, I've gained a pesky fifteen pounds that refuse to shed from my body no matter the months of intense workouts, or low insulin averages. I feel good and healthy by being active and athletic; I feel strong. I do, however, still feel (even after eleven years), heavy and uncomfortable in my own skin, and that weighs on me emotionally as well.

Emotional weight: This diabetes thing has been in my life since age four, for 25 years, never once taking a break. (The nerve! But, on the other hand, you have to admire diabetes' stamina for sticking around so long, and with such consistency.) It's HEAVY to carry around all the time. It's HEAVY to face day-in and day-out, when things are good, and when they are not so good. It's also super heavy when you've got other heavy things happening in your life, and you still have to pay attention to it. Just as diabetes has stamina, you have to muster up an equal amount, or more, to psyche yourself up and face it every day.

The weight of guilt: When I slack on testing, or know “I-shouldn't-eat-this-now-but-when-am-I-going-to-get-to-eat-and-bolus-oh-who-cares-it'll-be-ok-I'll-bolus-later-and-just-this-once-it-won't-effect-the-A1C-I'm-desperately-trying-to-lower.” Or, feeling guilty when I am sitting on my own little pity pot while on the T (you can't call it a subway and make it easy, Boston?), thinking to myself about how tired I am of carrying around/battling/wrangling diabetes along with life's other emotional issues, when at that very moment, I move aside for a man about my age (29) zooming into the car, smiling to me and saying "Thanks for making room," as he bends down and locks his wheelchair wheels. It's then I feel like a real... tool.

All of this weight adds up to emotional turmoil. For me, when I am emotionally flummoxed by any and all of this, I experience the physiological effects of said flummoxed-ness. Cortisol streams through my system and I get physically bloated. My blood sugar rises and hovers around 200. Anxiety sets up a permanent storefront in my brain. The weight of everything actually gets heavier.

This week, some of this weight was lifted. Upon realizing this, I recognized easing the burden of some of the weight is why I sought out the DOC in the first place: to share the load emotionally, therefore having positive effects on all sorts of different aspects in my life.

I approached the DOC about two years ago, when it dawned on me that other people have to write, converse, kvetch and ask questions about the very same boat I am in everyday. At the time, I was working at a college library's reference desk, and mentally smacked myself for not thinking and researching earlier being that it was my job to help find answers to people’s general queries. I stumbled upon Six Until Me and Texting My Pancreas. I read every day, thinking to myself about how these women were living my life and thinking very similar thoughts, not only about insulin, pumps, injections, endocrinologists, and health insurance, but music, cats, dogs, travel, exercise, and life aspirations. They made me feel comfortable for the first time in a long time that I have diabetes.

At that point, I had been a person with diabetes for 23 years. When I was diagnosed, my parents and I attended group meetings for parents and children with diabetes up until I was nine or ten. My mom was always scouting out other diabetes support groups for kids my age, and I even went to diabetes camp (having a pretty bad experience when they put me on THE WRONG INSULIN-- but I'll save that for another post). For the most part, however, I lived with diabetes solo: I was the only person in my family, my school, my neighborhood with Type 1, and didn't want or feel the need for camaraderie. I felt very much that it was my battle to fight, and that it wasn't going to stop me from doing anything; I could handle it all myself (a theme in my life) and be diabetically unique while doing it all. Furthermore, I felt that other people didn't need to be bogged down by "my problem."

When I approached the DOC, I was shy: I didn't know what vocabulary to use, or even what questions to formulate and ask. I wanted to be able to dive in with ease, immediately starting to write and connect with people, but having never done that, I sat back, observed, and used my research skillz to learn that there is this incredibly diverse, supportive, world-wide community of people who all want to learn and support each other as WE fight this battle every day. As clichéd as it might sound, knowing that I wasn't the only one lifted a huge emotional weight off of my shoulders.

I started writing a blog this winter, as I finally felt as though sharing my experiences and words could be useful to and appreciated by the DOC. I bucked up and told myself, "Who cares if my experience was exactly the same as so-and-so's? Doesn't that make us stronger?" I wanted to advocate for furthering research, and to advocate and be a catalyst for connection among folks with diabetes. Rather than sitting back half-heartedly searching for hash tags like #Type1, #diabetes and watching conversations like #dsma happen on Twitter, or not commenting on people's blog posts, I started saying, "Me, too! I know what this is like!"

A few weeks ago, the stars aligned and a group of Boston-based d-ladies got together after starting a conversation via Twitter and email. Some of them knew one another and had hung out before, and some of us were newcomers. I was nervous, thinking, "Will I be the only one who has had Type 1 since childhood? Will I be the only one who is thinking about pregnancy? What if I am on a completely different page than these gals? Can I do this? I haven't really done this since I was nine. Maybe I should just be quiet, or bail." If you know me, being quiet is not exactly my strong suit. I LOOOOOOOVE connecting and communicating with people, and I HATE bailing on things because I then feel guilty and resentful of myself for poor decision making and missing out on opportunities. I decided to go for a run before our dinner (and get those happy, confidence-boosting endorphins flowing), and found that as we introduced ourselves, talked about our careers, our frustrations with diabetes, our interests, our pumps, our situations--how diabetes weaves in and out of our lives-- it was GREAT. It was cathartic, fascinating, helpful in terms of tips and tricks and learning about what people have researched and what kind of groups they are involved with, and FUN. Who knew that talking about all things CGM could be fun? I came home that night, happy and light, reporting to The Hub that I felt like a stronger woman.

Then, this week, I met up solo with a gal from the group who is also thinking of and preparing for trying to get pregnant. It was a balmy 75 degrees in Boston all week this week, and we sat outside a burger joint, sipping vino (yes, at a burger joint) and talking about being English majors, OmniPods vs. tubing, husbands who are attorneys (something we share), doctors, and how even when we do our very best to "control" diabetes, we feel as though diabetes controls US. I talked about being self-conscious about the fifteen pounds I've put on since my 'retirement' from competitive swimming, and how frustrated I get because diabetes, and stress, and life seems to keep the pounds on. Just being able to say those words to a person, and them understanding the reasons behind all my individual frustrations, while sharing her own frustrations different than mine, and yet being on the same page about everything was pretty... enlightening. Our night out defined why I sought out the DOC.

Our night out also made me realize I want to do more. Connect more. Kvetch more. Accept myself-- and my dia-mistakes, body image issues, even my own emotional turmoil more. Sharing and learning from all of our experiences with diabetes in our lives, in our families, in our minds 24/7, collectively lift the heavy weight of diabetes and all of it's heavy, heavy baggage from my life. I not only want to help lift that burden from other people's lives, but want to know I can look to a place or person and cry out "WHY?!," and get answers and encouragement. [Yes, that was a gratuitous U2 reference.] I also want to know that I can look to a place or person, and say, "By any chance, anyone have tips for decoupaging an end table? Do you find when you decoupage, your blood sugar drops?" [I've never decoupaged in my life.]

I live in constant hope for a cure for diabetes, but until then, I know I will have to carry the weight of diabetes all the time. I know that I'll struggle with my small frame and a few extra pounds. I'll struggle (and maybe sometimes excel) at wrangling emotions and tough situations in life, and diabetes will be there in the pounds and in the wrangling. But, I don't have to do it alone. I can quietly seek out reassurance. I can read, and research. I can loudly commiserate. There are plenty of people out there saying, 'Take a load off, Kate. And put the load right on me."

That notion alone lifts worlds of weight off my shoulders.

"The Weight" by The Band, featuring The Staple Singers, from The Last Waltz uploaded by dogheadio on YouTube.

* * * * *

Here's a bit about Kate, in her words: 

Kate Boylan is an incredibly persistent (read: tenacious), stubborn yet bubbly, people-loving and lively Italian-Irish kid from Staten Island, New York. (Though she has mixed feelings on the isle settled by the Dutch at present, it is definitely NOT [all like] the [show] "Jersey Shore," and she's proud of her hometown.) She lives in, and is still getting used to Boston (even after a decade), with her best partner in crime, "The Hub."

Kate has had Type 1 diabetes for 25 years (diagnosed at age four), and recently switched from multiple daily injections (Novolog & Lantus) to a Minimed Paradigm Revel pump (Novolog), and she's loving it. Kate is contemplating seeking out a CGM, and welcomes pros and cons!

She is way into music, tries to maintain being athletic and stuff; loves food and cooking and good red wine, and scotch nice and neat, and baking, and art and museums, and movies and film theory, and libraries and old books, and family and friends and traveling everywhere and people. Whew, right?

By day, Kate is an Information Specialist (read: fancy new term for Librarian), and is interested in the sociopolitical and economic impact of emerging media and technology on, well, the world. She gets jazzed by thinking about information and media preservation, information literacy, information creativity, and critical inquiry of all of the above, not just relative to her job, but in all aspects of life.

Guest Post: Diabetes Anonymous.

As I mentioned on Monday, I'm heading out this morning to attend the Medtronic Diabetes Advocates Forum for the first time - it's a reaching-out-to-the-DOC event at Medtronic headquarters in the L.A. area. Disclosurey stuff: Medtronic invited me to attend this event and will be covering the costs of my transportation, lodging, and food while I'm there. I am not required or paid to write anything about the event, but c'mon. You know I will anyway. (And I'm sure they know that, too.) And speaking of writing...

Have you ever read something that you wish you had written yourself? It's so clever, so perfectly worded, so "Yes! THAT!" that you want to reach into your computer screen and hug the ever-living glitter out of the person who wrote it?

That's how it feels when I read Martin's blog, Diabetically Speaking.

I hope you'll enjoy reading this post from him as much as I did. Take it away, Martin!

* * * * *

Hi. My name is Martin, and I have diabetes.

“Hi Martin!” the room responded, cheerfully. I could hear the welcome in the chorus of voices, and see the look of acceptance in their eyes, everyone excited that I was there, encouraging me, urging me to “Please, tell us your story!”

Everyone in the room knew what living with diabetes was like. They all either had diabetes or loved someone who did. The only “type” in the room was Type Awesome. The room was filled with children and adults of all shapes, sizes, genders, and colors. There was no room for judgment, or an ignorant “type war.” Diabetes doesn’t discriminate, so neither did anyone in the room. They didn’t care if they were called “diabetic” or “people with diabetes.” Those are just words, and what mattered most was that we, of a similar circumstance, were there together.

I joked to the group that I had “the bad kind” of diabetes. They laughed. We all know that there is no “good” kind of diabetes. At the same time, we also know that diabetes is far from the death sentence that it was 100 years ago.

People live as full and productive lives with diabetes today as people without diabetes. Charlie Kimball races Indy cars for a living. Jay Cutler is a quarterback in the NFL. There is an entire professional cycling team that races with Type 1 diabetes. Living with diabetes requires us to pay attention to our bodies, and it’s arguable that many of us with diabetes are in better health than someone without diabetes who may procrastinate and ignore what their body is trying to tell them.

I told them about how I was diagnosed with “the beetus” when I was two years old, and that a life with diabetes is the only life I’ve ever known. I looked around the room for understanding, and a few people were nodding their heads, understanding what it’s like to not know a life without finger pricks and needle sticks.

I shared how I feel like those of us that have had diabetes all of our lives have it easier than those diagnosed later in life. Those later in life have a lot more to overcome. They have routines to break, habits to change, and a lot more to “get used to.” But for the most part, we do get used to it, because people with diabetes are resilient. Change, for a person with diabetes, is a normal everyday occurrence.

I briefly mentioned about the frightening times I’ve gone low and needed help, and the times that my blood sugar was stubbornly high and it took me a day of dosing a steady stream of insulin and not eating to get it back down to normal. That kind of stuff just happens sometimes, regardless of how good of “control” we may have with our diabetes. And that is okay. Nobody’s perfect, and nobody (doctors, parents, significant others, or even ourselves) should expect perfection. With diabetes, most of the time good enough is good enough.

Finally, I told the crowd how I celebrated 30 years with diabetes by jumping out of an airplane. I told them about the times I pedaled my bicycle 150 miles for fun and to raise money for charity. I told them about the time I rode my bike in the Five Boro Bike Tour in New York City. I told them about the Warrior Dash that I have coming up where I get to traverse a 3-mile obstacle course that includes, fire, mud, and probably a ton of other not-so-insulin-pump-friendly environmental hazards. I also told them how the day after that, I fully intend to be on my couch in front of the TV and do absolutely nothing.

That is life with diabetes. A person with diabetes can do anything that anybody else can do, including nothing at all, and still be awesome.

Then I sat down, checked my blood sugar, and had a complimentary cupcake and a Diet Coke.

* * * * *

And in keeping with my opening statements, I'm not editing the bio he sent me one bit:

Martin Wood is the creator/author of Diabetically Speaking, a Type 1 PWD for more than 30 years, a medical librarian, a cyclist, and a purveyor of all things awesome. He has an affinity for all things plaid, likes long walks on the beach, piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain. If you need a laugh and some encouragement to not take life so seriously, visit his blog at DiabeticallySpeaking.com and follow him on Twitter @woodonwheels. And don't eat yellow snow...unless you know how many carbs are in it.

That's My Dog!

Billy Corgin happens to be the featured dog on The Daily Corgi today. Go check it out... you know, if you're into that sort of thing.

There is a dog in there! Welcome to my house, dog! Let me sniff you.

Guest Post: I Get By With (Or Without Real Life) Help From My Friends.

I'm pleased to bring you a post today from fellow diabetes blogger and #sweatbetes extraordinaire Maria. (She's also studying to be a biomedical engineer, which means she is WHOA smart and totally a badass, in my eyes.) I think many of us can relate to the philosophy that sometimes humor is just as important a part of our diabetes management as insulin and glucose meters are, and how important it is to have people in our lives that "get it". Thank you for sharing your words here today, Maria!
 ____________________________________________________________________

"Who doesn't have ticklish feet?" -Classmate

"I'm ticklish, just not on my feet." -Roommate after I try to tickle her feet

"Diabetics?… But seriously, I just learned how to resist the urge to laugh." -Me

Best comeback ever. At least that's what my friends were giving me props for (because Biomedical Engineers hear about diabetes at least once in almost every class [or so I feel, but maybe a lil exaggeration]). Moments like these make me laugh when I consider that I've been somewhat Missing In Action on the front line of my diabetes care for about 10-12 years.

I'm a lucky person with diabetes, who managed to somehow survive her tumultuous teen and crazy college years with a little luck, little to no D-inspiration/care, and no signs of complications (yet [Thanks Body for functioning sometimes!]). For the longest time, I pushed myself to do a million things (that hasn't really stopped) without really paying attention to my closest companions, my irreverent pancreas and her silly tagalong Diabetes. High school and undergrad was definitely difficult to bring along this extra piece of luggage. I'd check my blood sugar once in a blue moon. I'd try and remember to bolus before I ate (which happened exactly once, I think). Even as a master's student, I tried to shove diabetes into my backpack and never pull it out (along with that fairly old granola bar and less old juice boxes for "emergencies").

What changed? I started reading a blog about living with diabetes one day. And then another. And then another. Until I was fully bitten by the Diabetes Online Community (DOC) lurking bug (and oh my, is it ever infectious). Some light switch went on that said, if they can do it, I can too (before the You Can Do This Project).

After spending nearly 14 years in a PWD free bubble, the light bulb went off. Things started to click. My HbA1c came down. My bringing up of diabetes in normal conversation went from non existent to all over the radar.

My best friend in high school actually sat me down to ask about my health because he finally saw the glucocoaster I ride through my tweets. While he remembers my teachers in high school scolding my eating habits in class, he never thought it was a big deal because I never really flaunted it around. My parents asked more often on the phone about my diabetes after I moved back in with them for a few months this summer. While my mom worries (about everything from my eating habits to my car and to my wardrobe occasionally), she had slowly let diabetes fall off her radar because I never discussed it. I never made a point of saying, "I'm testing" or "I need to wait for this low to come up before I can eat." While she still doesn't quite grasp that there's no such thing as perfect with it, she sees it more now and asks on the phone about my good friend, diabetes. Things are drastically different now.

I've only been living with my roomies for a few weeks now, but they already know that I talk to my diabetes (and my diabetic devices) all day long. They know, almost as well as I do, that my Dexcom lies sometimes. We sat down at dinner and just after my third bite of food, my continuous glucose buzzed about being low. Before I looked at it or opened my mouth, my roommate said, "Shhh! She's eating!"

Sometimes, I'll show them my graphs and they'll tell me what they see. Today's response? "It looks like your diabetes is giving you the finger. You need to get that pancreas of yours a stern talking to."

If laughter is the best medicine (which is definitely what I bet on in real life or online life), my friends give me no shortage of good medicine.

__________________________________________________________________

Here's a little bit more about Maria:

Maria Qadri is in her first year of doctoral studies in Biomedical Engineering, after completing a Masters and Bachelors of Science in Biomedical Engineering as well. As a determined young woman, she has a deep love of adventures (ultimate frisbee, indoor & outdoor rock climbing, delicious flour disasters) as well as jumping up and down for great causes (UNite for a Healthy Future / Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation / Engineers Without Borders). Her diabetes is a high school freshman at 14.5 years old and enacts all the (in)appropriate blood sugar (and subsequent mood) swings. She loves the driving around the northeast and volunteering to help with almost anything (minus laundry)! Check her blog out at Climbing Diabetes or on Twitter!

Guest Posting For Victoria.

My friend Victoria started a new job this week (doing awesome things at an awesome place), and asked a handful of folks if they'd supply some guest posts for her while she's adjusting to the new regimen.

I'm honored to be featured on her blog today (Billy is excited, too - the post is about him, after all), so please go visit her blog today to read my post!

P.S. Don't forget that the Hope Paige Medical ID giveaways for the You Can Do This Project community have moved over to http://www.youcandothisproject.com/ - today is the first giveaway over there, so be sure to leave a comment there before midnight!

HumaBLOG.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled onto a video from a site named "humaBLOG" that left me laughing.

Laughing, because it was so cleverly (and cutely) executed! A fast-motion video of someone sketching out their diabetes diagnosis story, with the author vocalizing the story through a voiceover. A simple idea that had to have taken a ton of work.

I had no idea who had created it, but I wanted to find out. And then, as sometimes happens, I completely forgot about pursuing it further.

Then on Saturday, I saw this tweet from @rachellynnae about her You Can Do This Project video, and it all fell into place for me. I felt so silly for not making the connection earlier - I actually knew who had created that first video! (Sorry, Rachel!)

Here's her latest video: for the You Can Do This Project!

Because I think what she does is so fantastic, I wanted to share her story with you. Rachel Scott was kind enough to answer some of my questions, and I'd like to share her answers with you!

Kim: Rachel, thank you so much for letting me interview you! For those who don't know you, can you tell a little bit about yourself?

Rachel: Well, I am a 20 year old college art student working toward a Graphic Design degree. I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when I was eight years old, but that wasn't the first or last time my family was faced with a diabetes diagnosis. My mother was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when she was eight years old as well, and a year after my diagnosis my little sister was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at the age of three. Every summer I work as a counselor at a camp for children with diabetes and it is what I look forward to every day all year long. So, I think it could be easily said that my life is pretty filled with diabetes.  That's why I have been looking to find a way to create art that reflects me and diabetes.

Kim: What is "humaBLOG", and how did you come up with the idea for it?

Rachel: humaBLOG is really a way for me to share my stories about my diabetes. In the past I have had countless conversations with people about diabetes and sometimes they really understood what I was saying, but most times they had no idea. So I wanted to have some sort of outlet to share these stories to people who would actually understand what I was going through. [...] I came up with a name (which really just came from the top of my head one day while preparing my insulin pump for a site change) and then I wanted to find a different way to share my story.

Kim:  I love, love, love your videos and drawings. How long have you been creating art (diabetes-themed and otherwise)? 

Rachel: I have been drawing for as long as I can remember. But my love of creating art came when I took my first art class in high school. Before taking traditional art classes I wanted to go into the medical field (specifically Endocrinology). I even began taking classes in the medical field before I realized that art and communication was the direction I needed to go. Recently I have taken many graphic design and multimedia classes and that's when I learned how to create digital pieces of art, which of course is my true love. In more than one of my art classes along the years I have used diabetes as a project idea. Mostly just projects explaining me. But recently I had an opportunity to do an advertising project for the diabetes summer camp that I work for, and I had a blast creating it.

Kim: Was there a specific moment that triggered the idea, "Hey, what I want to do with art could translate to what I want to say about diabetes, too"?

Rachel: Actually this happened pretty recently. I have a fantastic professor that I think of as my mentor. He suggested I find my niche in the art world and that I could do really well in something that I truly care about. In my first animation class we animated one of our favorite childhood story books. I enjoyed it so much I began constantly thinking about what else I could animate. I began to think of my childhood, and what kind of interesting stories could come from that. Then I realized that my most memorable stories were about diabetes. I knew then that I had to do something with diabetes and art.

Kim: Can you tell me about the process of making a video like "The Day I was Diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes" (which is the first video I found from you)? It looks like it could be really time-consuming.

Rachel: Well, with "The Day I was Diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes" I had an idea in mind of what I wanted the video to look like. So at first, I had to create some sort of sketches and a story board to work from. But after that, I just set off the camera and drew out the cartoons. I'd like to say it was all done in one take but in actuality it was about two or three takes to get it the way I wanted. After all the drawing, I imported all the video into an editing program and got to work on adding the video, recording voice overs, and adding music. All together it took me about two days of work. However in my newest video I tried my hand in some animation and that took quite a bit longer to get everything to move together. I had to draw everything out, scan it into a photo editing program, make adjustments and move it all into an animation program, and then finally I get to make everything move. It takes a long time, but I enjoy every minute of it!

Kim: What is your favorite project/creation of yours so far, and why? What sort of feedback do you get from others?

Rachel: Picking my favorite project is almost like picking my favorite child. But if I had to choose, it would definitely be my very first art/diabetes video project about my diagnosis. I wasn't sure if anyone was going to get it, really. I honestly just created it to get out of a writer's block for a speech I was writing for school. But I couldn't believe the amount of people who enjoyed it! I had been a quiet member of the DOC for a while but once I got the video out I was welcomed into the DOC so graciously. I was just amazed on how supportive everyone was with my video. I even got a few responses from people who were recently diagnosed telling me that my video helped them. I'm so glad I procrastinated on my speech to make that video.

Kim: I'm glad you did, too. What would you like to accomplish/try/create in the future pertaining to art of the diabetes persuasion? What can we look forward to seeing from you soon?

Oh, it's so hard to tell what I will make in the future. When I make projects the idea just comes to me out of the blue. I am going to continue to make some more animations and some more art. I have quite a few diabetes stories that I want to make into humaBLOG videos and I have quite a few other ideas that I need to sort out in my mind. But I will definitely be creating more projects - I can promise you that!

Thank you so much for sharing your story, Rachel! I'm a big fan of yours, and I can't wait to see the other stories you plan to share.  :)

If you want to find Rachel and her art, here's how!

YouTube channel: http://www.youtube.com/humablog
Tumblr: http://www.thehumablog.com/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/rachellynnae
Portfolio site: http://www.baroquecollegestudent.com/

Guest Post: Thank You.

First, today is the third of six giveaways for the You Can Do This community, from Hope Paige Medical! In order to enter today's giveaway, you must leave a comment on the You Can Do This Project page that is timestamped with today's date. This week's winner will be announced tomorrow!

Second, I have a little announcement regarding the You Can Do This Project, but I'm saving it until tomorrow - which will mark one month since the project launched. (Woo!)

And third, I'll be sharing more thoughts on the Children With Diabetes Friends For Life conference next week - I still haven't covered most of what I want to share. Soooo much to share.

Finally, today's post...

My friend and fellow diabetes advocate Victoria sent me this post a few days ago, and it's my honor and pleasure to share it with you all today. Victoria and her community were hit with very severe tornado damage back in April, and she was instrumental in helping to secure supplies for those with diabetes who were affected by the storms. She credits our diabetes online community in helping her meet those needs in such a quick and well-equipped way, and wanted to extend her thanks here.

Take it away, Victoria!

* * * * *

On Wednesday, April 27, so many lives were changed forever. In that one day, multiple tornadoes trekked across my state for hundreds of miles. The storms uprooted trees, demolished homes and destroyed entire towns. When sunlight emerged on Thursday, more than 240 lives were viciously taken in the storms’ wrath. As a print journalist, I knew early the devastation left behind by the storms.

I was immediately thrust into the epicenter of the storm’s damage. Along with my colleagues, we reported unfathomable news. Eight people in my county died and hundreds of homes and lives were destroyed. We watched as our community banded together to rescue those in need. We watched as strangers cut down trees, sorted through wind-scattered belongings and helped search for survivors.

Within hours of the storms, I was sent to the local Emergency Management Agency. I wanted to help with rescue efforts, but that wasn’t my job. So instead, I reported stories of sadness and loss speckled with the occasional goodness of others. After meeting a doctor with the local medical reserve corps, I realized there was a need I could meet.

The local medical clinic wasn’t equipped with enough diabetic supplies. What was available was expired. I knew that was something I could change. I went home and I grabbed every old meter I could find. (Sadly, I had some pretty ancient devices). I grabbed all the unopened strips I could spare, and I filled a bag with lancets, alcohol swabs and packaged syringes. 

Once I arrived at the makeshift clinic, a nurse said they had a need for Novalog insulin. I made a call, and within the day, a brand new bottle of Novalog arrived at the clinic. I started handing out my cell phone number to anyone with a diabetes or medical connection. I passed it along to fire officials to police officers and even to complete strangers. I called my local JDRF and ADA offices, and they immediately jumped on board. I went home after work and started writing. I wrote about the devastation and the sadness. I wrote about the heartbreak and the loss. And I wrote about how so many volunteers turned out to help, but there was a major need not being met through diabetes supplies. So I asked a simple question: if you have unopened, unexpired supplies that could be used, could you send them to Alabama?

Kim’s package arrived first, just two days after the storms. She enclosed a note detailing the supplies, and the last line item said “And lots of DOC love.” I don’t think I stopped crying for about a week. Every day I returned home, I found piles of boxes outside my door. Then, my friends at JDRF started calling because they were receiving tons of boxes each day as well. Others tweeted and blogged about the need for supplies and before I knew it, my living room looked like a diabetic pharmacy. It was one of the most inspiring things I’ve ever seen in my life.

I’m still overwhelmed at the outpouring of love and support the DOC showed my community during those days and weeks after the storms. In addition to the damage the storms left behind, it also killed all power throughout the county for six days. No refrigeration, no lights, no gas, no pharmacies, no nothing. The supplies were literally, a life-saver.

I’m still getting emails and phone calls from people in the DOC! Because of the generosity of this community, we were able to send supplies to 12 counties in Alabama – 12! We were able to mail supplies to Oklahoma City and to Joplin, Mo. Now, we’re helping uninsured diabetics with the leftover supplies. I still feel a tear each time I think about it.

I share this story to say thank you. This happened because of you! It was the DOC! This community may be full of jokes about bacon and cheese. We may have an unhealthy affinity for cupcakes and pick an imaginary animal as our mascot – but we are very much a force to be reckoned with.

We speak at roundtable discussions to help share a personal side of diabetes. We march Capitol Hill so people know how loud our voice is. We advocate from all corners of the earth and we educate people on the different types of diabetes. We can even flood your inbox to teach you insulin-dependent diabetes is not an “extreme” form of diabetes. We participate in clinical trials, we blog about research and technology. Mostly, we share with the world that we can do anything you can do, we just need a few extra bionic parts.

We are an eclectic group of people from all walks of life. But we have one voice and after April 27, it was heard across Alabama loud and clear! I’m still working on individual thank you notes, but this is the best way I could think of to send a loud and proud THANK YOU!

Stop what you’re doing, pat yourself on the back and know you did something good. Know you saved someone’s life and know you’re still helping others in need! I have never been so proud to be affiliated with such an incredible group of people – and by all intents and purposes, complete strangers. I don’t care what anyone says or how crazy it makes me sound, but I love you all! You are my family, and you are an incredible and beautiful group of people.

And I really do love you like bacon.

* * * * *

You can find Victoria blogging about her life with diabetes at http://www.victoriacumbow.com/, and on Twitter at @victoriacumbow.

Guest Post: Cartwheels and Wall Corners.

This week, I'll be attending the Children With Diabetes Friends For Life conference for the first time in Orlando, Florida. I don't have the usual line-up of guest posts while I'm away, so look for some eratic photos and thoughts being posted here throughout the week - as well as plentiful updates on Twitter. :)  


Today's post comes from my friend and fellow diabetes advocate, Michael Hoskins, who writes at The Diabetic's Corner Booth. Mike shares a story of a spontaneous "vacation" of his own - from insulin pumping. 

* * * * *

I sat at my desk, reading court rulings and plotting how I'd write a story about that day's legal happenings.

But something wasn't right. That thirst swam around in my mouth, that fruity taste present. A headache was clouding any thought about work.

Was I high? A blood test revealed a 398 mg/dL.

"What the... Fructose?!?! You a-hole," I said to my meter.

Was it my pump site? Tubing? Something else - had I eaten and not bolused earlier, or missed something else?

Hmm. The only thing that came to mind was that I was a couple days past when I needed to change out my site, so maybe THAT was the culprit.

I keyed in a correction bolus and waited for the insulin to start working its way into the set on my left arm. A half a unit in, the pump started vibrating like a whiny school child.

"No Delivery."

I responded: "You suck."

Trying again, the same result happened.

Unplugging tubing from site, I try a third time. This time, the bolus streams through the tubing without a problem.

"Great. Guess it's time to change up sites, here at the office..."

That's when I look for my spare infusion set in my briefcase and find it's not there. Apparently, I used the spare without replacing it. So, I'm stuck with a couple emergency syringes and my bottle of Humalog to last through the afternoon at the office. Skipping lunch, this won't be too much a problem.

But then comes the happy realization: I'm going to be FREE from my pump for the afternoon!!!!

A smile comes across my face, and I tweet this. Several in the DOC respond with enthusiasm, knowing from experience the awesomeness of being free for even a little bit.

I contemplate standing up at my desk, holding my arms straight up like I've just won a championship, and cheering for my new found freedom. But I thought twice, thinking my co-workers may not get my excitement.

They just might not understand the freedom from being unconnected, or an explanation such as "I'm High" or that I need to "Shoot Up." No, that might actually cause some more issues and uncomfortable conversations with the boss and management.

My mind turns to cartwheels around the office. Or maybe skipping around some wall corners that might otherwise present some set-pulling danger. Or maybe, I'll try darting around some doorknobs and laughing at them as they are foiled from latching onto my tubing.

No. Hesitation wins out again.

Instead, I tweeted from my Blackberry a few times and let it go at that. The DOC understood. They got it. And were just as enthused as I was.

Then, I just went about my daily work duties that afternoon, coming down thanks to some manual bolusing via syringe. Once at home about dinner-time, I put in a new set in my leg and was back to the pumping life.

It was only for a few hours, but those moments of freedom were good ones. I could have done cartwheels and not had to worry about doorknobs or wall corners. And just being in that position, even briefly, was enough for me.

* * * * *

Thanks again to you, Mike!

Birthday.

First: it's my birthday. No big deal. (I didn't even take the day off of work - what is wrong with me?)

image credit

Second, I'm thrilled to be the guest blogger today over at With A Side Of Insulin - so that's where you'll find today's post.

Third, I am so immeasurably glad that it won't be 100 degrees at any point today. I just can't take much more of that this early in the year. I'm not ready!

And fourth, if you'd like to talk about the You Can Do This Project with some other folks who plan to participate, you're in luck - it's the topic of tonight's DSMA Twitter chat! Join in by using the hashtag #dsma starting at 8:00 CST, and get ready for one of the fastest hours of your life. And be prepared to speed read.  :)

Guest Post: The Benefits Of Going Bionic.

I'm mixing things up a bit this Tuesday morning - you'll find my post over at Our Diabetic Life (hope you have a great vacation, Meri!) today, and I'm bringing you a guest post here. Laura, a self-professed "tech geek" and blogger at My 3 Ring Circus of a Life, writes about finding something she can enjoy about having type 1 - the "robot parts".  :)

* * * * *

I’m a tech geek. That’s the honest to goodness truth. I teach the technology classes at a small, private school, I’m attached to my laptop and my smartphone and I love video games. When I was diagnosed with diabetes (adult type 1, thanks so much body for revolting) right before my 34th birthday, I felt like I would have to undo my geek status in relation to my health. All I knew of diabetes was shots. Draw the needle up…stick it in your body somewhere and move on.

Then, I started suffering through crushing highs, rattling lows and all of the mood swings that come with the territory. I didn’t know what to do, as my schedule started not to allow me the time to really do what I needed to do to in some cases, stay vertical. It was, on some days, frightening. Others, it was just plain annoying. Then, there was the fact that I started to react from the needle sticks. Itchy, welty, red bumps were the order of business after every single injection. I was also bruised beyond belief. 

It was then that I visited my Irreverent Endo. I asked him about a pump. Yes, I had done my research. I knew that this would mean going BIONIC! I was bouncing at the prospect. I didn’t know what he would say to me, and frankly, I was prepared for every instance of no with an argument as to why I should be allowed to have this. 

Irreverent Endo said “Pump? Sure! I’m easy, but I’m not cheap. This will cost you.”

Cost?

I paid him in true irreverent fashion. With cookies. 

Yes, the diabetic requesting a pump paid her endo in cookies. Oatmeal raisin cookies at that.

Never said I wasn’t a bit left of center either. 

It was at that point, I discovered the tech geek side of having diabetes. I actually became a bit less resentful of my body revolting against me and decided that this could be fun. I decided that it was high time that I got busy going bionic and stopped complaining about things. 

Having a pump changed my life. It changed the way I looked at being diabetic. It changed the way that I viewed my world. For the longest time, I figured I’d be doomed to a life of nothing good. No fun, no good food, no nothing. Everything was fire and brimstone-don’t touch this, don’t eat that, don’t do this, oh, my, your kidneys, oh, my. 

There wasn’t one good thing about this. 

Except for the pump. 

I get this huge kick out of plugging in a USB drive and downloading my pump. Totally makes me feel a bit like I’m out of one of my favorite Sci Fi stories, Johnny Mnemonic, where the guy has information in his head that he has to download. 

It’s just a perk of going bionic. 

I also have gained so much control-and for me, that’s the huge deal. I don’t hate this whole auto-immune thing anymore. I’ve learned to use the technology available to make my life manageable and easier. 

Having this pump is like having my smartphone or laptop. I’m attached to it, it makes my life easier and it can be just plain fun to own. Ok, it doesn’t play games, run apps or do anything that a lot of people find special, but for me, it has made me peek at things in a new light. Even if I had to go a bit more bionic to do it.

* * * * *

Thanks again to Laura for sharing her thoughts here. (P.S. How does one get ahold of those cookies? Yum!)

Guest Post: Spring Cleaning.

Today, I have the pleasure of bringing you a post from Katie Hodge. A jewelry designer and teacher by trade, Katie is relatively new to both blogging and the diabetes online community, so please help me welcome her! :)

* * * * *

Hi! I’d like to introduce myself just a little bit, since I’m pretty new to this community, and a little bit shy for a blogger. ;-)

I’m Katie… I’m 23, looking forward to my 2nd wedding anniversary in July, and puppy-momma to a tiny, fuzzy Charlemagne. I was diagnosed with Type 1 September 3, 1999… shortly after turning 12. I use a Minimed pump, and sometimes a Dexcom CGM. Since getting married, I have also discovered that I have polycystic ovarian syndrome. I’m kinda infertile (which is heartwrenching) but the insulin resistance is the more medically crummy symptom. It has been quite an adventure assembling a medical team to get me pregnant! Other than medical stuff—I am a jewelry designer. That’s the main focus of my blog. I also love bargains, crafting of ALL sorts, and baking. I’m excited to meet y’all!

What I would love to focus on today is something that I’ve been mulling over since Kim’s post about the Promise Book and a conversation with my Grandma. They really struck something in me, and got me thinking about my heart. Yeah, deep, I know. I’m not usually, but roll with me, please!

I was having a classic Bad Day, and talked to my Grandma on the phone. We were fairly estranged for most of my childhood, and have reconnected mostly since my marriage. Her encouragement, the realization that she and I are so much alike, and her words, “It is good to hear your voice,” are all priceless treasures. There is a verse in the Bible about “treasuring these things in [my] heart,” and while this is a WAY (WAY, WAY!!) different situation, I began to identify with the sentiment.

Picture, as I have been, your heart as a cabinet. I am a notoriously, horrendously, tragically disorganized person… so my cabinet has been pretty messy... but I’m working on straightening it up. Like with a real cabinet, when your heart is cluttered, it is really easy to misplace things and forget what you have. So, here’s a partial inventory of mine:

1. My faith. Actually, it is kinda more like the shelves in the closet—it helps me make sense and order of chaos.
2. My husband. Well, duh. Doesn’t get a lot better than this man. <3
3. Promise book: This is a recent addition, but an important one. I added this after Kim posted about it. This is where I extend grace to people who may not necessarily deserve it! I added this and chucked the book where I “kept a record of wrongs.” (1 Corinthians 13:5) Granted, this was a reasonably small volume—I am a nice person, after all—but any book like this needs purged!
4. Family: Some of these are a little discouraging at times, but they’re mine. Other times, they are beautiful and fantastic. Kinda analogous to photo albums...
5. Heritage: I am a descendant on my dad’s side of many of the great kings of Europe—especially France—as well as beautiful strong Appalachian people. I’m finding a lot of identity as I explore what this means to me.
6. Trinket box: This is where I keep the little keepsakes… like loving words or gestures, smiles from strangers, being stood up for, words of encouragement… the things I can look back on and smile, my small but priceless treasures.

Ah. It feels good to have organized and inventoried some of that… I think I’ll keep working on it for my own benefit. This was something I needed in my life… I hope it has inspired you to clean out your heart’s closet, chuck the garbage, and maybe rediscover some treasures you can be cherishing! Is there anything in your “closet” you’d like to share about?

* * * * *

What a wonderful idea - to stop, take a minute, and appreciate the good things in life. Thank you for this thoughtful post, Katie!

You can find Katie blogging at Always, Katie and on Twitter as @AlwzKT.