the holes of my sweater

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struck i was, by the call to depart from violent language

number four.

right there. ilana jacqueline typed the words i couldn’t shape in a blog post.

pushing my chronic pressure points, laughing and crying and relating. i wanted to reach out and hug her.

you’re not living with chronic illness if you’re “fighting” it,
she says,
you’re not living if you’re fighting

at last, at last! proof! another being feeling trampled by the jarring, taring, crashing, shooting, breaking, trampling diction of chronic disease

the death diction dramatizing the harshness of my day to day existence,

i get it

i get why we need it
the money! the funds!

gimmie my program
my research, my daughter, my son

undo the struggle, give back the careless childhood

i get why we need it, the money, the funds

we must communicate the importance of our cause.
battle. fight. beat it. run. win. win it. kill it done.

ladies and gentlemen. these words sting me like a priest asking god to forgive the sins that washed this disease over me to begin with.

like something with an end point, changing, brewing, fixing

be it dramatic, my feeling is valid

and true.

invisible house, pounding invisible doors, withdrawing into nothing but disappointment

why haven’t we moved past this?

i was drafted to a flowering meadow disguised as a war
where sunshine looks like bloodshed and blossoms like scars
where weeds look like time bombs and…

my life is not a battlefield, and my pump is not a gun.

pardon my abandonment

tell you once i don’t want it, and change it?

i will

i’ll search for and find a treatment for this language

a treatment’s not a cure, but i’ll work out that too.

i’ll be it, not preach it

the exodus of violence in my day well lived

a most grand transcendence from fight and compete
to bold and complete

from grenade to morning dew

from trench to divot

fear to matrimony

together, in tandem
yes
yes
indeed.

read me my vows, i’ll dance and say i do
if we work together,
try
try
with all we’ve got

well, we will get as far as we get…
knowing well we met in a flowering meadow and lived our days
most of our days
not scratching and death-trapping
but
really
kindly caring

checkity-check-check

insulin empty
try not to see yourself in the pathology.

i’m pulling out my old books and some new ones as i delve back in to the kind of diabetes research that stimulates my need-to-do-good faculties.

reading and reading:
remembering not to ruminate
to find meaning
to seek benefit
to stress less

to write more.

this morning has been an explosion of epiphany in the sound of this:

amidst these reminders and this charming song, something fabulous happened:

my mind wandered,
and i went on facebook.

there, many diabetes friends posting their written works, their stories and tales, predictions and art.

like and arrow to the chest, it hit me. i hadn’t read diabetes blogs in forevs and i needed to pick back up on that right now. this instant. right now, right now.

so i did and i am and i’m feeling more relief than i have since i drove away from my home base of six years to make home anew.

so thank you DOC, for feeding me right when i needed to be fed. for being alive and welcoming regardless of time or place. for doing what you do.

i’m jumping back on the DOC train. checkin-in.

more to come. asap (pronounced as a word, not an acronym).

——–

thank you to chris for suggesting that today be a check in day (#dblogcheck). i’ll be more than a lurker today.

pop, pop, pop that thang

tahoe

this post is not drug related, despite the title.

or, well, i guess it is.

insulin is a drug isn’t it?

correction to that first line there: this post is indeed drug related.

LIFE UPDATE
i moved to mesa, arizona on sunday night. yes, i did mean to write night. we left berkeley, california around 9pm and drove 12 hours straight through the night. we made it to our new home around 9am with a full day of car and van unloading to do.

elements that screw with bgs:

-not sleeping
-not sleeping because you are driving all night

-hot hot sun
-moving schtuff to the third floor
-moving schtuff to the third floor with no elevator
-moving schtuff to the third floor with no elevator in the hot hot sun
-moving schtuff to the third floor with no elevator in the hot hot sun with no sleep

-having a beer to celebrate getting moved in
-having a beer to celebrate getting moved in after moving schtuff to the third floor with no elevator in the hot hot sun with no sleep

fast forward to now:
i expected things to go wonky, but i didn’t expect this
low after low after low.
54
48
32
63
48
it’s like my pancreas kicked into gear or something.

sweet heavens of jupiter! move to arizona and de ‘betes cure you’ll have.

yes, i’m more active than i’ve been.
yes, the temperature takes a toll.*******(see side bar below)
yes, boozy schmoozy adds an extra bell to the curve.

but this amount of turbulence i wouldn’t have anticipated.

i’ve got mamma’s voice ringing in my ears:
basal testing dear, you must conduct basal testing. ;-) gotcha.

i am actually STOKED to find a new endocrinologist here.
i’ve got to work this schtuff out soon.
sheesh, it’s been rough.

how about you?:
if you’ve experienced weirdness during or just after a move, how did it go? wonky-ness? any sense of normalcy through this would really help.

*****sidebar*****
at ada scientific sessions 2014 in san francisco, i heard and read about research for heating pads around the pump site to increase insulin absorption. could the heat be functioning like the heating pad? could it be heating my body and thus increasing my absorption rate? where is gary scheiner when you need him?

don’t you want somebody to love?

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patient and waiting for the chance to ask,
a woman in the back stands to say
“my patients are asking, ‘why me?’ and i don’t know what to say.”

there, right there, i wanted to shift my body weight from my butt to my feet, throw my arms up in the air and say, “EXACTLY!”

that’s why we are here
that’s why people with diabetes are work work workin’ to contribute to the diabetes online community.

that question, among others, is why we reach out with open arms and hearts and minds to strangers who are only qualified to propose an answer because of their exposure to the same tough life circumstance that brings the questions.

why not just seek answers on our own?
why not just look inward, or at faith, or to science?

because being in a space where others are also asking, “why me” transforms the question entirely:

instead of asking “why me?”, you wonder “why us?”

inclusive. enlightening. loving. moving. inspiring. transformative.

there is nothing more powerful than community
nothing more powerful for the individual
and nothing more powerful for the collective.

the end.

ps. i’m not the only one thinking this, right?:

twitter doc exists

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
this post was inspired by a session at ADA scientific sessions 2014 in san francisco. i applied for and received a media pass to the conference. i will be posting more about this conference and you can find other accounts at the perfect d, your diabetes may vary, six until me, scott’s diabetes, diabetes hands foundation, our diabetic life, sweetly voiced, a consequence of hypoglycemia, the blood sugar whisperer, and on twitter with #DOCatADA and #2014ADA. if you have covered the conference and are not linked here, please let me know and i will add you to the list.

one-oh-five

box

one-oh-five
one hundred and five
105.

105. my blood sugar after a hike up and down the mountain.
no feelings of going low: no shakes, sweats, or frights

105. my score and my win.
taken at the start of a calming and deserved sit down looking over vancouver, canada.
the hike behind us and dinner ahead.
grouse mountain.
what a nice place to be.

it is shorts and a sweatshirt weather.
cloud free, although i rather enjoy a good cloudy day, this day is sharply clear
and evermore, freeing

105. i show him the number.
nice!‘ he replies, a high five made of sound waves

we sit together at 105.

‘stand up and i’ll take some pictures’ he suggests.
it is the most breath-taking view we have encountered with privacy since riding the gondola up, up, up to the base before the bigger gain.

should i take my sweatshirt off?” i wonder and then ask.
yeah” he agrees sweetly.

105. i want to be here forever, i think as he wraps his arms around me,
our eyes facing out to the topography of vancouver.
studying the grooves and points of nature and man, together we fall in love with this place.

i know we just talked about not feeling a need to rush anything” he whispers in my ear.
but…

he goes on….

i don’t ever want to be without your either, i think as he presents his love in words.

105. the number of beats per second.
i can feel his blood surging
heart leaping through his yellow button down,
banging kindly on my back.
are you here with me, his heart keeps asking

holding tightly, he begins to turn around…
he faces me without letting go
an intense offering made through the lock of our eyes

he smiles softly.

“i don’t have a newsroom…” he says as he begins to kneel to the pebbled sierra, the only soul bearing witness to our unfolding history

“…but i do have a mountain.”

reaching in his pocket, is he really reaching in his pocket?
a trinket box, brilliantly blue and textured.
i’m present here.
i’m here.
we are here.

of course, of course, of course.

105. the number of times i nodded in a hug squat,
holding, embracing, loving
moving a new ring around and around and around to feel all it’s ridges.
us.

tiny tears in our eyes
wide grins and smooth ‘i can’t believe this is happening‘ laughter.
we stand, hand in hand, and walk toward our first dinner as somehow more than we had been moments before.

bigger. grander. stronger.

105.
one hundred and five.
one oh five.

Diabetes Blog Week 2014: Day 5

yes.

that.just.happened.

watch it again.

———————————————–

it’s a WILDCARD diabetes blog week prompt:

Write a short story personifying a diabetes tool you use on a daily basis. A meter, syringe, pump, pill, etc. Give it a personality and a name and let it speak through you. What would it be happy about, upset about, mad about?

Tell Me a Story Wildcard Link List.

ps.

Diabetes Blog Week 2014: Day 4

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MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS MANTRAS

……………………………………………………………………to live by.

quit slackin’ and make shit happen.
….while you’re doing that, keep in mind that the only thing constant is change.
…….when things get wonky, know that better management is not a destination, but rather a way of life
……….while forming happy habits, remember that the most supremely qualified person to make it better is you.
…………. and whatever you do, put effort forth to love more and worry less.

ps. if you can’t find a mantra today, mike lawson is pretty famous for serving them up on mondays:

mike lawson mantra

mike lawson mantra 2

final note (thank you STEPHEN for reminding me to share)….

NEVER GIVE UP. NEVER SURRENDER !!!!!!!! — via galaxy quest

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today’s diabetes blog week prompt:
Today we are getting back to the positive with our topic Mantras and More. Yesterday we opened up about how diabetes can bring us down. Today let’s share what gets you through a hard day? Or, more specifically, a hard diabetes day? Something positive you tell yourself, or mantras, or what you fall back on to get you through. Maybe we’ve done that and we can help others do it too? (Thanks to Meri of Our Diabetic Life for suggesting this topic.)

Diabetes Blog Week 2014: Day 3

old blog

that was my first diabetes blog.

A Bit of a Written Advantage

i started it when i was 20 and kept it a secret until now.
i did so because it reveals a darkened heart and a troubled soul
i didn’t share it with my parents
i didn’t share it with my friends

i am petrified to share it now…

i wrote it for me
i needed to be negative
i needed to vent

even when i knew i’d be the only one to see it, i became closed and self conscious
i feared it revealed something about me that i wasn’t ready to see.

reveal

i used my first blog space as a search and find
picking pockets of diabetes life to pit my anger and frustration

i was never doing well enough
never quite okay despite how badly i tried to convince myself i was
i felt as though i was the only person with diabetes who couldn’t get it right
i felt guilty and if prompted, i’d surely be the one to point a finger at myself and my habits.

-

i have always been a great pretender and stand by the notion that what one does affects the way one feels.

thus in theory:
by acting like a person who is good at managing, i will, i time, feel like a person who is actually good at managing.

high BG

i’m not sharing this now because i feel healed or better

i’m not cured of the damage diabetes has done to my psyche

if anything, i’d say i’m still sifting through the rubble to find pieces of myself that were lost or stolen. it’s tough to figure out what is true and what is foreign when everything is covered in the same gray dust.

i don’t know that this process ever stops. i may be searching for ways to feel whole until it’s my time to pass.

it often works as a cycle. i learned through seeking identity wholeness that i am painfully self-aware. living with diabetes may or may not be deserving of credit for that, but regardless – it serves me well in many occasions, but certainly not in all. i can easily get too introspective and begin to question my personhood.

I AM MOVING THROUGH THIS DOOZIE RIGHT NOW:
pssssst: i am highly sensitive about it, in fact i’m not sure i am ready for comments on this bit at all

as the post above still rings true, i have to question:

(a) does high blood sugar change the real me, which is kind and patient, into a less pleasant being which is decidedly less ‘me’?

OR

(b) am i a person, thick with bitterness and scowl, who uses the excuse of high blood sugar to mask what lies beneath in dandelions and snowflakes?

FURTHER

if (a), would it be honest to say that i take every precaution to stay in my more natural state?
if (a) and i don’t take every precaution, what priority beats out being in my more natural state?
if (b), is it possible that i purposefully take diet risks to exercise that excuse and thus relax into my more natural state?

* i am aware that there are many shades of gray between (a) and (b) and i’ll likely nestle somewhere between them.

-

the fact that this question exists for me in combination with how very raw i feel right now after writing it out is proof enough of two things:

1. soul searching is in it’s infant stages for me and clearly, moves at a glacial pace

2. during this process i need to remember to build UP my emotional evaluation of self worth and believe above all else that soul searching is something only the strongest and bravest can endure. moreover, i ought to take great esteem in my ability to ‘go there’ and then push further. it is a great gift and may be lost if not exercised.

-

thank you scott strange for your honesty and your bravery. i think the world of you and all the work you do both inside and out. you make the world (and the #DOC) a brighter place. this topic pushed me to explore something new.

_______________________________________________________

todays diabetes blog week prompt:
What Brings Me Down. May is Mental Health Month so now seems like a great time to explore the emotional side of living with, or caring for someone with, diabetes. What things can make dealing with diabetes an emotional issue for you and / or your loved one, and how do you cope? (Thanks go out to Scott of Strangely Diabetic for coordinating this topic.)

Diabetes Blog Week 2014: Day 2

Bridge Cabin

send me well wishes, not tricks up your sleeve
because right when i need you, you also need me

there’s no changing colors, no charging up dues,
no market impressions, no turning up clues

i test, you trial, as our turbulence goes
on for lightyears, discomfort and woes

you never asked for permission, to park it and stay
you’re welcoming gift bears, a reason to pray

i pray not to jesus, nor shiva, nor thor
for they bare no witness, to what we’ve endured

answer me this, are you used to me yet?
cause i’m still not adjusted, your now and then threat

there’s no ‘when this is over,’ or ‘as soon as it’s done’
because you and i baby, got no where to run

so send me well wishes, and i’ll still do my best
together we’ll do it, every last test

there’s no you without me, nor me without you
so let’s be married in action, and both pay our dues
i can if you can, and we can it’s true
our bumps become our stories, our unexpected blues.

______________________________________________________________

todays diabetes blog week prompt:

Our topic today is Poetry Tuesday. This year, Diabetes Blog Week and TuDiabetes are teaming up to bring out the poet in you! Write a poem, rhyme, ballad, haiku, or any other form of poetry about diabetes. After you’ve posted it on your blog, share it on the No Sugar Added® Poetry page on TuDiabetes, and read what others have shared there as well!