Dear DIabetes - WE NEED TO TALK:

Dear Diabetes:

Hey, how goes it?

Just checking in with you, to make sure that u and I are on the same page and see eye to eye.
We've had quite a long history together and have been through a lot, both good and bad.

I think you need a bit of refresher on what I expect out of this relationship so I've taken the initiative to write this letter and go over some House Rules.

FIRST OFF, lets discuss blood sugars. The way I see it, they’ve been pretty good as of late and I’d like to keep it that way. I’ve been checking in with said blood sugars about 10 times a day, and that’s not going to change. Yes, I know you think that that amount is somewhat excessive, but testing that often really does help me keep an eye on all your highs and lows.

Especially those times when u lean too much in either direction and try to throw me for a loop.

NEWSFLASH: I don’t like feeling lethargic when u decide to blow the BS sky high out of the water and I don’t appreciate the accompanying headache either. So I will continue to count my carbs and your just going to have to accept that.

AND WHEN U DO DECIDE TO GO LOW, that behavior is unacceptable as well. I do not appreciate breaking into a sweat and feeling my lips go numb. As far as that shaky feeling that shoots through my body, DON”T GO THERE. I know that it’s your way of letting me know my B.S has gotten way to low. But trust me, I’ve already figured it out, SO QUIT IT.

FYI: I see a CGM in my future if you don’t straighten up and fly right. I have no problem playing hardball.

SECONDLY, I have my yearly eye exam in March. I fully expect you to “make nice” when my Doctor dilates my pupils. Let him see exactly what’s going and continue to steer clear of my retinal area.
You and your kind are not welcome in these kaleidoscope eyes.

THIRDLY: My weight is dropping and I’d appreciate it if u continue to allow my waist to shrink. In order to do this I need you not to mess with my inflamed ligament in my foot.
The Ortho says it will get better and it is a result of exercising and a long second toe continually rubbing against my shoe. She also said that it is NOT diabetes related. LET’S KEEP IT THAT WAY.

AND LASTLY, please keep in mind that I am your host, and while I can’t make this a
“Dear John” letter and end our complicated relationship, I STILL OWN YOUR PERVERBIAL ASS. GOT IT? It's not the other way around and it never will be.

I WILL WORK WITH YOU; I have no problem with that. But I own you outright and you will do as I say.

My rules are simple. I want to be healthy, happy, and to live a great life. Occasionally I’d like to enjoy a coconut cupcake or a piece of dark chocolate without getting any crap from you.

Thank you for abiding by my rules.
Sincerely
Kelly K
Mistress of the Manor in which you reside - A.K.A Your Diabetes Hostess with the Most-ess

Back Away From The Idiot At The Party

As I read (and became once again incensed) yet another article that didn't differentiate between Type 1 and Type 2 Diabetes, in a major womens periodical, I was reminded of an incident that occurred a few months ago.

I was at a friend’s birthday party -celebrating his big day, catching up with old friends and meeting new people.

The cupcakes were coconut, the wine was red, the beer was Belgian and the people (for the most part) were an interesting mix.

I can honestly say I was having a great time.

As I eyed the coconut cupcake that was calling my name, and tried to figure out it’s carb content in my head. A woman who I'd just met a few minutes earlier, noticed my pump and started to ask questions.

Here's the play by play:

Her: "Is that a cell phone?" Asked in a quizzical tone.
Me: "No it's an insulin pump." Said with confidence and pride.
Her: "Wow, does it like take your blood sugar?"
Me: " No, not this model." I was not about to go into what a CGM was, to detailed for a newbie.
Her: "Do you have to wear it all the time?" She asked in a doom filled tone.
Me: Yeah, pretty much, except when I shower, swim or have sex. ...And even then, wearing the pump is still an option."
Her: "Well, how exactly does it work?"
Me: I went into the whole electronic pancreas,blood sugar and counting of carbs speech - you know the one., I won't bore us by repeating it verbatim.
Her: "Oh cool. But..... I could never do that, I'm not good with needles and I love chocolate to much."
Me: "Well I eat chocolate when I want to, and as far as the needle and canula, you do what you have to so you can live a good life. It beats the alternative of not taking insulin. I like to live, you know? This is the best option for me until there's a cure."
Her: "Well, I couldn't do it. Have you thought about just cutting back on carbs and doing more exercise? I bet u could totally stop taking insulin if u did that."
Me: Seething and ready to slug her. I had to take a deep breath and count backwards
from ten before I continued to talk to this IDIOT.

10, 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1. " Look - I have type 1, I don't make ANY insulin. I could run marathons and I’d still have to inject daily."
Her: Sounding a bit indignant. "Well, I read that if diabetics did more exercise and ate less crap, you could eventually stop taking insulin."
Me: I had to remind myself that I was at my friends birthday, which was not the place to verbally annihilate a fellow guest, no matter how stupid she might be. "Look, you need to read more about the two types of diabetes. T1 and T2. It's all over the Internet; just Google " The difference between t1 diabetes & t2 diabetes" in quotes and do the research. Excuse me, I see someone I haven't talked to in months. Good talking with you."

I grabbed my cupcake and walked towards the living room. It was a no win situation that I had just removed myself from. We were at a birthday party of a mutual friend. She didn’t want to be wrong and on this particular subject, I knew I was right.

It was best to end the conversation and move on.

Yes, I was ready to kill her. Verbally, I could have destroyed her with my words based on fact and fused with a sardonic humor that had taken years to develop & fine tune. I've done it in the past, and I'm really quite good at it.

But I had to walk away for Jeff’s sake. It was not the time or the place to bring some misinformed idiot to tears –Boy, was she lucky.

People are miss informed about Diabetes because of what's in print and what they hear on TV.
Most of the time, we as diabetics can explain the differences between the two diseases and people will want to be educated and informed about both types.

Other times, that's just not the case. I put my friend ahead of the facts because I could tell "Idiot Chick" didn't want to listen.

Still, every time I think about it, I'm bothered by the fact that:
A. She didn't know the difference.
and
B. She didn't want to know the difference.

I Still Wonder.....About Everything

Some days I wonder....

I wonder what it would be like
Not to have test my blood sugar,
Not to have to constantly count my carb intake,
Not to ever worry about Diabetic complications.

What would life be like to never have something attached and injected in my body on a daily basis in order to live?

Other days I wonder how the stars can shine so brightly.
Or how could I view a lunar eclipse well past midnight,
And somehow still not be tired the next day?

I always wonder why every wave is different....
Yet the same.

Waves remind me of home.
My childhood,
And my diabetes.

My diabetes is the same as yours -
But unique because it's mine.


For instance:
Pasta drives my blood sugar crazy -
So I do with out.
Ice cream I can navigate without much of a problem.
So indulge from time to time.
I can live without a big bowl of pasta,
I prefer ice cream anyway.

It's a strange thing,
But I never actually wondered why I got diabetes
Maybe I was to young when I was diagnosed to really understand.

It happened,
It couldn't be changed
And that was that.

Cathy, my only sister who doesn't have diabetes,
Always wondered why the rest of us got it and she didn't.

The only answer I had for her all these years....
Was that I was supposed to get it
And she wasn't.

I never really understood my answer,
But I still knew it to be true.

I just wasn't really sure why.

Then a few years ago, I started speaking and telling jokes regarding life with diabetes to patient groups and Diabetes organizations.

I realized that by making others laugh and learn because of my humor,
Not only helped them –

It helped me.

It was something I was supposed to do in & with my life.

And finally....My Diabetes answer made sense.

Yo Dude, I'm a P-E-R-S-O-N.....Or Dude, Learn From The Good Dr. How To Actually Be A Good Dr.

So I went to my Endo Dr. J this morning.... But my labs did not.
The lab was called, the paperwork was found and faxed to the office 10 minutes later.

Next I was weighed -I’d lost 4 pounds.
My blood was tested. It was 107 - I’d had breakfast just an hour and a half earlier so I was pleased.

Then I was led to the exam room, where I was left to my own devices.

OK, I was dying to go through the cabinets and drawers – I didn’t of course, but who could blame me if I did? I was bored and nervous and needed something to occupy my time. There were no magazines and I’d already written my list of questions for Dr J.

So I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I was nervous and I started to pace.


INTRODUCING.....THE DUDE

Finally, the Attending Intern (that's what you call the student Dr. in training right?) walked in and introduced himself, and quickly started to ask questions.

Right away, I could tell he hadn’t look at my chart.

And how did I know this? Elementary my dear Diabetesaliciousness reader.

1. Dr. Dude asked me how long I'd been a diabetic and if I was a type 1 or a type 2.
2. Dr. Dude didn’t know what meds I was taking.
3. When I told him I was only taking a short acting insulin; he did quite “get it.”
4. A.K.A. –Dr. Dude had no ideal I was on the pump, & between u & me, I don't think he actually knew how one worked.
5. Finally, Dr. Dude asked me if my family had a history of diabetes - In my head I thought,"Your kidding right?" This was the final huge tip off that told me he neglected to read my chart.
   

If he had read the chart, Dr. Dude would not only have known the answers to all of the questions above, but he would have total realized what medical oddities my family & I are.
"HELLO," half of my immediate family are Type 1's, not to mention a boatload of Aunts, cousins, and a nephew!

Had Dr. Dude read my chart, he probably could have written a kick-ass paper about us and maybe even be quoted in some medical journal. He could have been considered a Rock Star among his peers, and maybe even picked up a few babes in the process. But, in his eagerness to learn and impress my Endo, Dr. Dude had dropped the ball by neglecting the simple (my medical chart,) and became just another nameless Attending Intern.

Look, D2 was a really nice guy and someday he will be a good Doctor.

But, Dr. Dude needed to work on dealing with the patient as an individual. Not as a number, or some medical chart that he needed to update quickly before the real fun could begin.
Not only was I a person who had a medical issue, but I was a person who "had issues" with her medical issue. Are you following me?

I told Dr. Dude what concerns I had about my diabetes .
And to his credit, he took copious notes and was extremely polite.

He then excused himself & went off to talk with my Endo.

PART TWO - INTRODUCING THE 'ROCKIN' DR J,

A few minutes later my Endo came in - followed by D2, who was looking very serious.

Dr. J gave me a big hello and wanted to know how I was doing.
Instantly I was put at ease and I hoped that D2 was paying attention.

My Endo Dr. J is awesome! He was so on was on point and not just about my numbers, but on all issues related to Kelly K and her diabetes. He knew my concerns. He remembered my family history, my fears and all the idiosyncrasies that are part of the wonderfulness of being me.

Dr. J was genuinely happy with my numbers, and wanted to know what I'd been doing to have my A1C drop to 7 from 7.6.

He also wanted to know how I was able to drop cholesterol by 24 points, now it was well below normal. FYI - On my last visit and for the first time EVER, my cholesterol had been high by about 12 points, and it freaked me out. So I made a few changes.

To be honest, those changes were simple – I just ate more legumes; whole grains, fruits,veggies, and fish, while eating less meat. I also upped my fiber, can you say WHOLE GRAINS? It worked for me and I was both relieved and glad.

Dr J also fine tuned my Altace by 5mgs and gave me a boatload of insulin samples. YES! That man knew how to make a girl happy!

When I asked him about any upcoming studies that I might be eligible to get in, he told me that my A1C was to low to be eligible for any upcoming studies– which was a good thing.

My Endo, while being incredibly book smart, is just as incredibly people smart.
He can talk me down off my "diabetes ledge of what ifs," update me on all the latest and greatest, and never treats me like a bad diabetic.

We talked a bit more and set some goals for my next visit.

Dr J didn’t want to see me until the summer and I left feeling happy.

I was a person (one who felt happy and healthy, knock on wood,) who happened to be a patient, and that’s just how my Dr. treated me.

Calling All Pennsylvania, Jersey, Delaware, & Maryland Diva-betics

On March 8th, I'm embracing my inner Diva, ensconcing it in glamour, and learning more about my diabetes by attending the “Divabetics -Makeover Your Diabetes Event” being held in Philadelphia.

WHERE: The Hilton Philadelphia, on 4200 City Line Ave, in the Versailles Ballroom –Quite the appropriate ballroom for Divas!

WHEN: March 8th, 2008

TIME: Registration starts at 12:30. Ladies do yourself a favor and pre register at: www.divabetic.org or call 800-634-8888.

Admission is FREE
More information can be found at: www.changingdiabetes-us.com

Divabetic is an organization that combines diabetes education with complimentary spa and salon services for women with diabetes while educating them about the Big D.

I’m looking forward to “getting my glamour on” and learning something new.
Hope to see you there!

Sometimes Your Just Tired...PERIOD.

Right now I'm so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open, and it's only 9:07 pm.

I'm not tired because I'm sick or because my blood sugar is high, it's not. I'm tired because physically, this Chick is spent.

Sometimes in this life, a telephone poll is just a telephone poll & a diabetic is tired because she's just had a crazy couple of days or an incredibly hectic week.

The fact that we as diabetics can be tired due to life & have it not be blood sugar related is not only comforting to me, IT'S FREAKING AWESOME!

Comforting because like those in this world with perfect pancreases, we can work; play, and deal with the unexpected crap that life throws our way, and still have good numbers.

Awesome, because being tired doesn't just represent the bad.
No, tired can represent living an active existence, a busy mind, and an imagination that is running overtime. All represent good health -That golden ring we all try & reach for.

Being tired can mean that we are embracing life and all its wonderful highs, while acknowledging the lows. Learning from them, and moving pasting them.

Kinda like this thing called Diabetes.

Diabetic Dream or Nightmare?? You be the judge! OR just Good Old, Goody Goody Gum Drops!

Swirly, sugary, deliciousness......
Is it a Dialbetesalicious dream or a nightmare, or that place between awake and sleep that can go either way depending on your state of mind and if you bolused correctly.

You be the judge.

Candy Land took on a whole different meaning after my diagnoses in 78.

PS - I admit that the todays Candy Land graphics are not the ones from my childhood, (the gumdrops of my youth were spectacular) which was much more candy centric. Todays game looks to be more character focused instead of sugar. Go figure?

But u get my gist! ;)

After frightening a few readers with the latest version of the game,mostly due to the dude in the peppermint hat. I was able to locate a vintage copy of the game that was very similar to the one my family had growing up & have added it to the post. A compromise that reps all generations!

DID I NOT TELL YOU THAT THE GUM DROPS OF MY YOUTH WERE SPECTACULAR!

Calling all Midvale Alum

OK - favorite"Far Side" pic ever!

Reminds of me of this life of mine at times. While I'm an excellent dancer when the music is on, I'm a bit clumsy in real life...on occasion. Sometimes the blatantly obvious, is not so very for those of us who are Midvale alum.

For instance.....I've actually put my my pump battery in backwards and then wondered why "the damn thing wouldn't work!"

I've walked into, and almost through a screen door - with coffee in hand. No damage to the screen, but I ended up wearing my coffee.

I've put my test strip in the machine upside down and then wondered where the area was to place my drop of blood.

Once, in High School when I was deep in conversation with my 3 best buds, I actually walked smack into Stop sign because I was enthralled over my friends latest escapades, I looked at them instead of looking ahead. I don't know which hurt more, my head or my pride.

I used to give my insulin shots through my clothes to save time - and to secretly impress my friends. Of course, only when I was wearing white or some other light color, would a drop of blood decide to appear. Ironically it never once happened when I was wearing black, purple, or blue.

We all know about pump tubing and doorknobs. It's a global issue, nuff said.

I won't even tell you how I broke my arm a few years ago. Let's just say it involved preventing a cordless phone from falling down a flight of 16 steps - by blocking its descent at the top of the stairs,
I inadvertently caused myself to fall and ended up at the bottom.

We all push when we should pull at times, but we learn and move forward just the same.
It's very similar to dealing with our Diabetes. Just when we think we know it all about this disease, it throws us curve ball or two, forcing us to learn yet another set of rules regarding the Big D.
And we do, because we can....And because we must.

What if the Queen Had Balls?

Tonight I fast...Fast for the battery of blood work that accompanies my Tri-monthly Hemoglobin A-1C.

Last night I fasted and was supposed to have blood taken this morning, but deadlines called, and tomorrow will have to do.
I don't know about you, but the anticipation of the fast; the test, the results, and what they mean, tends to do a bit of a head-trip on yours truly.

Will my numbers be good, or at least improved from last time?
Will medications have to be upped, lowered or added?

Am I on the continuing path towards health, or will my sister's words which paralyzed me years ago (see January posting) comeback once again to haunt me?

Tests freak me out, always have. Just go ask my High School Math teacher. Poor Mr. Mandell would watch as I'd start to tear-up during the test. I'd study so hard, my parents would pay good money they didn't have for a tutor, and I'd pass, at least the night before the test in the comfort of my living room, with my math tutor Joe, a former Big Band singer and WWII pilot with a great head for numbers. But during the actual test in school, I'd psych myself out, freeze up and forget everything.

Mr. Mandell would actually work in extra credit points that only I would know. For instance, on 1 exam the extra credit would be a point for every Woody Allen movie we could name. I got at least 10 extra points on that one. Another exam had us name previous Oscar winners and the films they won them for - that was at least 15 points thrown my way.

As an adult, I suffer from "White Coat" syndrome. They normally have to take my blood pressure several times because the 1st one is always high due to the fact that I know how important my numbers are.

It's really ironic, I can talk to large groups of people about living with diabetes and only suffer from butterflies and the wonderful adrenaline rush, but have Nurse Practitioner Chick take my blood pressure, and I have to talk myself down from a ledge of "What-ifs."

"What if my blood pressures high?"
"What if my urine tests have protein?"
"What if my blood work shows something that just should not be?"

Then I ask myself, "What if the Queen had balls Kelly, what then? Hmmm, good question.Well, then She'd be King or a really fabulous Drag Queen that’s what if….Get over the fear and get on with your life Kel!"

As Diabetics we live in fear of the dreaded "What Ifs,"on a daily basis.

I'm tired of the power that the "What Ifs " hold on me and I’m purging them from my life right now!
I'm going to focus on the fact that these tests are there to help and inform me, not hurt me.

I' m going to learn from them and live my life to the fullest.

Technology is our friend and knowledge is power.

Listen...

OK - I literally stumbled ( as in stumbleupon.com - my new favorite site De Jour) upon this article called "Nine Secrets Health Insurers Don't Want You To Know," which was posted on health.com in September of 2007.

As Diabetics it seems as if we are always fighting for coverage, choices, and options for our health. This article has tips from industry insiders that can only help us in fight to get approval for CGMS, pumps, and tests that can only help us to live long and healthy lives.

Click on the link at the bottom of the post and learn about our rights as both consumers and patients.

Knowledge is power and I plan on taking this knowledge to the bank and giving Diabetes Math a run for it's money! Hope you do to!

http://www.health.com/health/article/0,23414,1663353,00.html

Suck It In......OR I was Born Without Stomach Muscles

I have belly pouch, there's no denying it.

Even at my thinnest, when I was a size 4 and all muscle, my belly was not washboard.
My legs have always been skinny & muscular, my back nice and strong. I've been told I'm built like a swimmer. My arms have good days and bad, but are in no way misshapen, I can wear sleeveless.

But my belly has always protruded a bit.

Even as a gangly kid, who was Alfalfa skinny and whose ribs you could actually count - I still had slight belly pouch. My dance recital pics from my days dancing on the Steel Pier, show me as the tall skinny kid in the middle with the little pot belly.

Oh, there are muscles under there, and you can see them, but my belly has a protective layer of fat that just will not flatten.

I get nervous because I know that a potbelly, no matter how small is a good indicator of heart disease. I'm doing sit ups and tightening my stomach at timed intervals, but even in my size 8's,
There’s still more stomach than I'd like.

It's the first place I loose weight, and the first place I gain weight.

I know that most diabetics, including type 1's, have this issue to some degree.

My Diabetes Educator actually calls it a diabetic pouch or stomach.
I call it a diabetic pain in the "arse" by way of my stomach.

One of my favorite lines from pulp fiction is "Pot bellies are sexy."
I tend to take that line to heart, as I continually suck in my stomach.

Once at the gym, a woman saw me doing massive crunches with a 40 lb weight on my stomach and told me that if I just did more squats, spinning, and crunches my stomach would be flat like hers. - "You'll be able to bounce quarters of it in 3 months," she said with a smile.

I looked at her innocently, and said with a straight face, "Well.....Actually, I was born without stomach muscles. It's been an uphill battle, and learning to sit up was a real bitch, but I think I'm handling it well. Thanks for the advice though. Anything else you think I need to know?" She looked me at said,"OH MY GOD! I'm so sorry, u look great, God bless u!" She then high tailed it out town . What I really felt like saying was , "Shut up & mind your own business biotch!" But, I did get the results I wanted. Sometimes guilt via humor is better than anger when it comes to know –it-alls.

So as I aim towards a size six and munch on my tomato and turkey sandwich with gluten free Ezekiel bread, I embrace my good points and I tell myself that even if my stomach is never washboard perfect, I have kick-ass legs and thin ankles....And you can't buy thin ankles darlings! ;)

Make It Happen..."IT'S" A Challenge Sometimes

I'm really trying to live by these words.

Some days it's so easy and everything comes together like clockwork.

Other days it's incredibly hard and I feel like quiting.

Today it's hard.

But like diabetes, you do what you have to and keep moving forward.

Making "IT" happen takes hard work and I'm up for the challenge.

Some days the challenge just takes more out of me than I'd like.