PurpleHaze

Well, Happy New Year to You Too..........

2011-12-31T18:42:00.006-06:00

One of the best things I did this year was join the Y in October. It's only a couple of blocks away, and although the membership is costly, I still have plenty of things that I can give up in order to pay for it.

Fortunately, we STILL have nice dry sidewalks and temperate weather so far, compared to the 48 inches of snow we'd had at this time last year. I'm still doing a lot of my walking outside, but one the temp dips and the sidewalks ice up I'll be spending more time on the treadmill. In addition to steps, there will be speed and time figures to put on my spreadsheets

Today I stopped over about mid day, before going to see the Dragon Tattoo movie. The smaller equipment room, which I like to use, has 7 treadmills. You are supposed to sign up on a sheet, indicating which machine you're using and for how long. They were all empty so I didn't bother.

About 20 minutes along, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was startled and nearly fell off the belt. A woman in her 20's said she noticed I hadn't signed up. I thought perhaps she was fond of the particular machine I was using, and offered to get off. She said, "Oh no, that's not it. I'm just tired of you fat old hags thinking you don't need to follow the rules".

Say what? Fat? True enough. My body mass index is 27, right in the middle of the overweight category. Old? Well, that's a subjective judgement. At 58.5 years, I prefer to consider myself "middle-aged". Hag? I think of a hag as somebody missing a few teeth, with a wart on her nose and whiskers on her chin. Hmmmmmmmm.

I gave her my ice queen stare. She then hit me on the shoulder with her water bottle. Hard. So, I hit her back. It was more like a light tap on her elbow with the back of my hand.

One of the heavily muscled trainers ran over and asked wha was going on. After a couple of explosive explanations, it was determined that we have to meet with the membership director next week and apologize to each other.

I went to get my coat and started to cry. One of the guys at the front desk came and gave me a hug and I left sobbing.

The tears really weren't because of that buffoonish little wench. They were because I spent all last night awake, wondering what the coming year will bring. Where will my health be in 12 more months. True, I've come a very long way this year and often surprised myself with the strength I've gained. But, 20% of all dialysis patients die each year, and I saw that myself with the deaths of patients who dialyze on my shift.
It's hard. So very hard.

Best wishes to all of my online friends, for peace, joy and fulfillment in 2012. Much love to you all.

Post Holiday Sale

2011-12-28T19:55:00.006-06:00

Long lines at the grocery store today. All of the Christmas candy was half off and I love a bargain.
It was time to stock up my hypo stash, but I have to be very careful not to get anything too yummy.

I chose the tree Peeps and white tootsie rolls.

Both are loaded with high fructose corn syrup, which works like magic for me. There was also a lot of chocolate on sale, but, as a dialysis patient, it is off limits due to the high phosphorous content.

I put everything in jars, with the number of units to take per treatment - 2 Peeps, or 3 Tootsie Rolls. Looks like I'm all set (for the next month, or two). Be gone, glucose tabs (or at least be banned to the back closet shelf.)

A Couple of Things

2011-11-29T19:09:00.006-06:00

I saw another blue circle in the wild:

It was part of a bike rack. Actually, sort of cool that it was incorporated as part of a larger whole, just as we are.

New step record:

Actually. a couple of strolls around the block would have bumped it up to 27000, but we'll save it for another day.

I've been having a problem with my big toe:

The podiatrist said it was bruising from walking too much in ill-fitting shoes (at that point I was still on blood thinners). I asked my primary about it today and he concurred. But I am worried. I've always jumped on symptoms, and have a bad feeling about this. I am going to have the kidney doc look at it too. (There are 3 people on my dialysis shift who have amputations; one recently died.)

No snow here yet. A year ago we have something like 10 inches, so I'm sure we'll get it sooner or later.

DB Meetup #4

2011-11-15T19:12:00.007-06:00

It was just a week ago that I had my 4th db meetup, this time wth the gracious and classy Judith in Portland. Judith and I met a few years ago n Tu Diabetes. She grew up in Minneapolis and was in town visiting her sister. Scott Karl also joined us.

The three amigos:

Judith, feeling a bit warm (we were sitting near the fake fireplace):

Getting ready to leave - don't I look like I'd just received a "feel terrific" injection?

And, here is my shirt for Blue Friday #2:

Ten Things Meme

2011-11-08T13:18:00.011-06:00

I've been tagged by my longtime friend Zazzy.

1. Describe yourself in seven words.
Strong, fragile, trusting, introvert, compassionate, calm, frantic.

2. What keeps you awake at night?
Restless leg syndrome, carpal tunnel pain, and the temperature of my bedroom.

3. If you could be anyone for a day, who could you be and why?
A backup musician for Bob Dylan. Yes, I am gaga over him, and always will be.

4. What are you wearing right now?
Black cotton knit pants, long-sleeved olive tee shirt, and a little woolen muffler around my neck.
5. What scares you?
Further diabetes complications, being a burden to someone else, running out of insurance coverage to take care of the db needs, and global terrorism.

6. What are the best and worst things about blogging?
Best - making friends all over the world, getting emotional support, being creatively inspired. Worst - going bonkers when my computer shuts down, thinking people will judge my posts as stupid, being disappointed when I don't get a lot of comments.

7. What was the last website you looked at, apart from Twitter or Facebook?
Barefoot Contessa. I watch her cooking show on cable when I'm at dialysis. I swear she has never made anything yet that doesn't have at least 1/2 pound of butter in it.

8. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
The fact that I refused to have meetups with online friends until June of this year. Stupid stupid stupid.

9. Slankets, yes or no?
Well maybe yes if they were on sale or someone gave me one as a gift.

10. Tell us something about the person who tagged you.
Zazzy and I have been friends for a couple of years now. She is a devoted caregiver to her aging parents, and the mom to 2 kittys, Stasia and Casper. She is creative, wise, and insightful. She rocks!

I am tagging another good friend, Colleen.
Go for it!

Blue Friday #1

2011-11-05T08:46:00.002-05:00

Blue is definitely my favorite color - cornflower, sapphire, sky, azure, navy, and the powder blue color of my '75 Mustang that I got when I was 25.

Yesterday, being the first Blue Friday, I went walking by the river after dialysis. The Mississippi runs just north of downtown Minneapolis and I love its healing waters.
Being as I am not exactly a shy person, I asked a boy to take my picture:

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I was thinking that I'm in a rough patch now, feeling once again overwhelmed by the 'betes and the dialysis. I am not looking forward to the long dark winter ahead.
I was shuffling along, deep in contemplation, when I saw this:

I was about a millimeter away from screaming to anyone who would listen, "look, there's a blue circle, right here on the sidewalk, for Diabetes Awareness Month". Too bad no one was around.

My friend S. says a meaningful coincidence is "when God winks at you". And guess what, I winked back.. And went home with a smile on my face.

My 3rd DB Meetup

2011-10-23T19:18:00.020-05:00

After experiencing my first DB meetup at the end of June, I told my good friend Colleen that I wanted to have a total of 10 before the year was over. Hmmmmm.

My 3rd meetup took place a week ago, at the Mall of America. Three people were in from out of town for the ADA Expo and wanted to get together.

Present were: Scott, Richard (and wife Anita), Merrilee (and husband Bob), Lloyd, Sue, Mikey (and wife Kim), Dean, Bea, Ann, and myself.

There were a couple of 2's:
--two Joslin 50 year medalists, Merrilee and Richard
--two service dogs, Lily and Brody
--people from two additional states - New York and South Dakota
--two authors of books, Beating the Odds:64 Years of Diabetes Health by Richard, and Successful Diabetes Management by Lloyd

A couple of places at the MOA that we'd thought of were extremely noisy, but the staff at the Barnes & Noble Cafe were graciously accommodating.

We talked about all things diabetes, but at my end of the table there was also conversation about grandchildren, Nascar races, horses, dogs, cats and the always changing Minnesota weather.

I had a wonderful time (not to mention the ride home with two certifiable wild and crazy guys.....)

(If anyone notices any mistakes here, please let me know. There is nothing that can't be fixed.)

Here are the pics.

ADA Expo Chance Encounter

2011-10-15T21:08:00.011-05:00

Today I went to the ADA Expo here in town. I had a strong feeling I'd run into somebody I knew. I was making one final circle of the booths and suddenly,there on a stationary bike, was Heather. Heather is a fellow Minneapolitan who I'd never met in person. Wish fulfilled!

Heather introduced me to the lady on the other cycle, her friend Mari. I didn't realize that this was the well-known db endurance athlete and coach,
Mari Ruddy.

No

2011-09-11T18:28:00.003-05:00

I have been on dialysis almost a year now. The rage, sorrow, and hopelessness lie quietly in the shadows, and come out at unexpected times.
Yesterday I was in the checkout line at Target and the woman next to me said, "oh your arm looks awful - are you on dialysis?".

I said no. And walked away. Crying.
(The paper shredder can wait another week.)

Two Quirky Surprises

2011-08-24T15:28:00.004-05:00

My bookclub friends gave me an IPod Touch for my birthday last month. (Sweet deal, huh?) I had one of the original IPods, so thought this would be similar. Well, I could get nothing to work, and then suddenly last week discovered this video on it (don't ask me how I got there). It was unintentionally taken when my friend Elise and I were walking to Chipotle for supper. (I'm not usually this much of a whiner.)

Now I have progressed to loading music so I can take it to dialysis.

You have heard me talk about my wonderful niece, E. She will soon be 8 and has been with us for 7 years. We love her to pieces, and yes, she is indulged.

This past Saturday we went to a mini family reunion at my cousin's in southern Minnesota. His family and my two remaining uncles and aunts were there. I was thinking they all wanted to see me before I died. I had not been with them since my illness, and, even though I'd written a Christmas letter explaining everything, there were still some distorted versions about how I was doing.

After some initial awkwardness, things flowed smoothly and we all sat around the table, talking about days gone by. Very poignant, but also pleasant.

On the way back to Minneapolis, E. and I were in the backseat. Now I have never openly talked with my family about the db. E has seen me test my blood and likes to wait for the number to come up on the screen. But I've never used the words "insulin" or "diabetes". I was preparing to take an injection to cover the homemade ice cream we'd had before we left. (Thankfully, no diabetes police were in attendance.) I had propped up my big totebag between us so she wouldn't see anything.

E: Is that for your diabetes? Are you drawing up insulin?
K: (befuddled) Well, yes it is. How do you know about diabetes?
E: Megan has it.

Megan and E have been in daycare together for several years. E talks about her all the time. I immediately asked my sister how long Megan had had db. She replied, "a couple of years". Hmmmmmmmmm.

K: Does Janet (the daycare lady) help Megan take care of herself?
E: Yes, we all do.
K: Does she test her blood like auntie does?
E: Yes, and then when she's low she has to have a snack. Do you ever get low?
K: Yes, a couple of times a week.
E: What does it feel like? (I couldn't believe we were having this conversation).
K: It's hard to describe. Sometimes I get shakey and sometimes dizzy. Sometimes I feel really tired. Does Megan ever have to take a shot at Janet's?
E. Sometimes. The first time Janet did it Maean was crying because usually her mom did it. You know what I did? I gave her my blanket (Smiling proudly).
K: Well, she's lucky to have a friend like you.

Sigh....I don't know why my sister never mentioned that Megan had db. Granted, we have weird family dynamics.

So. The universe is providng me with more ways to own my condition - first, the vlog; then the meetup; and now my conversation with E.

Sort of mind boggling, if you know what I mean.

One Year Ago Today

2011-08-08T19:59:00.006-05:00

One year ago today I was in intensive care and my family had been summoned to my bedside to say goodbye.

On August 1, 2010, I went to the ER for nausea and weakness. While looking via ultrasound for possible gallstones, they saw a suspicious shadow on my ovary. I had surgery that night, and yes, it was cancer.

I developed a blood clot in my lung due to the surgery, which then caused my heart to stop beating a few days later as I was being wheeled to physical therapy.

Two days later I had another arrest. Then my lungs failed and my kidneys crashed. I have been told several times that I could not have been any closer to death.

To sum it up, my kidneys came back, then crashed again, came back again, and then in October failed permanently. I was on oxygen and in a wheelchair until the middle of November when I went to rehab. I could barely stand by myself and fell out of bed twice and did not have the strength to get up on my own. No one knew how far my recovery would go.

Flash forward to today. I can walk a reasonable distance quite well. My breathing is fine. I'm not able to work because of the dialysis schedule, but otherwise fully participate in all the things I used to do.

It feels really weird to reflect back on this. Sometimes it seems like it never happened and I've simply been on a long foggy vacation. Other times it's very scary, because I know that PWD's do not do well on dialysis. I've explored with my therapist the question that if my life is drawing to a close, how would I like to live out my last days? I think I should make a bucket list. And, other times I find within myself a deep soothing sense of peace. That everything is as it should be.

Last week I had an appointment with my shrink. As I was leaving his office, he said that I could be very proud of my recovery. I said, "but I really didn't do anything".
He replied "oh yes you did - you chose to live". I guess that about sums it up.

I was fussing and fretting all evening in trying to take a closeup of my bracelet. Thinking maybe I should march to Target tomorrow and get a better camera. Well, when all else fails, consult the instruction manual (something about aperture size and shutter speec). Yes, I can follow directions...

My Very First DB Meetup

2011-07-13T15:35:00.005-05:00

When I became a part of the blogging community, it never occured to me that I would want to meet anyone in person. I have no idea why. I guess my health crisis last fall changed everything.

Mikey over at Tu Diabetes has been organizing monthy meetups for a long time, and always kept me on the list. When I got the email that there was going to be one on June 28, I really wanted to go.

That morning I was out walking and an elderly lady was pulling out of her driveway. She motioned for me to go ahead, and when I was directly in front of her car gunned the accelerator and knocked me to the pavement. I was terrified I'd broken something. A man on the other side of the street said he was an EMT and asked if I could wiggle my finger and toes and if I'd hit my head. Yes. Yes. No.

I went home and rested and then went to the meetup. I was feeling a little wobbly but attributed it to the heat. I immediately felt at home with these people. Very pleasant. There were three pumpers, one poker and one pen user. Conversation flowed smoothly.

Scott offered me a ride home and I accepted. Two seconds after we'd gotten up from the table, I found myself sitting on the floor. Of course, everyone suggested I take my bg - 217.

So Scott and I toodled off and my head began to swirl. I don't think he knew I was about a millimeter from upchucking in his front seat. I crawled into bed with all my clothes on and by the next morning felt a little better.

I went to Urgent Care and they said I had an acute strain of my torso muscles. My upper left stomach was starting to hurt.

The pain increased and on Sat morning I woke up and was hurting so badly I could hardly turn to get the phone to call the ambulance.

I was whisked away to my primary hospital and about 15 minutes later the doc said I had a ruptured spleen and was bleeding into my belly. They wanted to save it if at all possible, so I was transferred to Hennepin County Trauma Center, where they could operate within a minute's notice. I had to have ultrasounds every half hour. Then I developed a 103 fever and rapid heartbeat. On Friday I was still feeling very ill but they said I could go home.

The weekend was horrible. I went to my sister's for a night but there new dalmation puppy got on my nerves. Today was the first day I felt reasonably okay. Still very weak and shakey and flooded with memories of my big hospital stay last fall.

Here we have Scott, me, Dean, Ann (and her adorable super pooch service dog, Lili), and Mikey. Mikey's son was behind the camera.

And who is this man with the vibrant smile? A potential car jacker?

Catch Up on D Blog Week - Picture Day

2011-06-13T18:30:00.017-05:00

D Blog Week sort of wiped me out - in a good way, of course.

I live alone. I still have good hypo awareness, but always keep a jar of high fructose candies on my nightstand.

The problem is, though, that if I wake up with a bad hypo, I always go into the kitchen in search of something - even though the candy is right in front of my face. I even tried hypnosis a few years back, suggesting that I remember the stuff is within reach. Didn't work.

In the last 5 years, I have had three episodes where I was so low I couldn't walk. I crawled to the kitchen but could not stand up to reach the stash in my cupboard. Very scary.

So, I started keeping a supply on the floor. It is loosely covered. Many people who visit me and see it think I've gotten a pet. (What kind of pet would that be - a candy-coated chihuahua?)

DB teaches us to be great problem-solvers.

As long as we're doing pics, here is my most recent step record - done last Thursday.

And here is my dialysis report card - yes I got a bug sticker.

If anyone is looking for some great summer shoes - these are fabulous. My podiatrist recommended them. Made by Keen. They're are a nice blend of dorky and funky. The junior sales clerk, who looked like he was about 12, said, "now, miss, you can put them in the washing machine, in case they have a lot of mud on them". Best to be prepared...

D Blog Week/Post 5

2011-05-13T15:19:00.003-05:00

I am stepping outside the box today, by putting up a vlog of myself. Once I got started I discovered I had so much to say I had to make two videos. SO glad to see that blogger is back up. Maybe we overloaded it. LOL

D Blog Week/Post 4

2011-05-12T06:07:00.000-05:00

I can't believe it's already day 4.

Ten Things I Hate About Diabetes

1. That it stole my dreams from me. I was a junior in college when diagnosed and intended to apply for medical school. The fear of the future made me cancel those plans and instead I ended up teaching biology at a school in southern Minnesota. I got tired of unruly students flinging the dissection frogs at each other and in 1978 moved to Minneapolis and took a job in the investment industry.

2. The cost. I have a living room couch that sags in the middle and have never taken a real vacation.

3. The endless waiting. Waiting at the clinic in the checkin line; in the reception area for my name to be called; in the exam room for the doc to come in; for lab reports to come in the mail; on the phone with insurance companies.

4. The fear the crosses my mind when my nephews ask for a refill on their pop.

5. The enormous amount of stuff I have to carry around every day.

7. The shame I feel when my A1C is over 7.

8. The fear that since I have a very serious complication, kidney failure, that there are more horrible things just around the corner.

9. Dialysis.

10. The fear that no one will remember me when I'm gone.

Diabetes Blog Week/Post 3

2011-05-11T02:06:00.006-05:00

One of my most remembered bloopers was when I was waiting in line at the grocery store after work. Suddenly I felt myself going hypo and immediately reached inside the soda cooler that's strategically placed near the checkout, took out a 20 oz bottle of coke, gulped down half of it, put the cap back on and set it back in the cooler. Must have thought I was home at the fridge.
The next day I recalled what I had done and went back and the bottle was still sitting in the cooler, so I took it out and paid for it.

The second really isn't a blooper, but funny nonetheless. 9 years ago I had surgery for a detached retina. In order to hold it against the back of the eye while it healed, a nitrous oxide bubble was place in the eye. This bubble would gradually decrease in size over the next weeks. I had to wear a neon pink plastic wristband that acknowledged the presence of the bubble because there were certain situtions and medications that could cause it to burst. One day I was waiting at the busstop and a young man pointed to the bracelet and said, "drugs or alcohol?" Apparently residents in treatment programs are given such a bracelet when they have a day pass to leave the facility. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "heroin", He replied, "I thought so. I can spot you guys a mile away."

D Blog Week/Post 2

2011-05-09T20:07:00.003-05:00

Dear Dr. Steve,

You have been my primary care provider for over 12 years.

During that time, I was consumed by anger and fear. Just sitting in the exam room made me defensive and outraged. I felt as if you had no clue about living with diabetes.

There were many episodes of sobbing and wailing. Once I even told you to perform a biologically impossible feat and stomped out, slamming the door.

Yet you continued to treat me with respect and compassion. It was nothing short of a miracle that you were on your semi-annual week of hospital duty last August when I was admitted. You told the oncologist that you wanted to be the one who told me I probably had cancer. You asked the surgeon to page you so you could be there when I got out of the o.r. I remember you talling me that the surgery went very well and showing me how to use the patient controlled analgesia and give myself a bolus of morphine.

When I had my first office visit after getting out of rehab, your eyes lit up and said "Kathy, you look simply terrific".

At my last appointment, you were very impressed with the fancy graphs that I printed out with my new OneTouch software.

Steve, I haven't a clue what I did to have a long-term relationship with such a special physician.

My gratitude to you always,

KP

D Blog Week/Post 1

2011-05-08T18:16:00.004-05:00

I used to be one of those people who thought that Type 1 and Type 2 were on opposite ends of the rope. Gee, what did someone who just had to pop a pill know about putting a needle in your belly?
I used to think that some of the pumpers were arrogant and looked down on those of us who take injections.
I used to think that people who were complication free wanted to "circle the wagons" and have nothing to do with those of us who were living with retinopathy, neuropathy and kidney disease.
But.....that's all changed. Yup, I guess it took nearly dying to bring me to my senses. I came home to such a rich outpouring of love and concern from across the web that still brings a tear to my eye. There no longer were any walls dividing us, but an unbounded community of people who were fighting for a greater cause. And it feels wonderful.

A Very Big Deal

2011-05-03T18:48:00.006-05:00

Ever since I got out of rehab, my goal has been to walk 10000 steps a day. 10000 was an arbitrary number set by a clinic system who gave free pedometers to their patients. However, I seemed to get stuck at 8000.

Last Thursday I decided to walk partway home from the hospital where I go for carpal tunnel therapy. I was disrupted by a nasty low so took the bus the rest of the way. When I opened the pedometer, this is what it said:

I was dancing around the kitchen in delight.

The next day at dialysis I told the tech that I had to start taking the bus - that I took cabs because it was such a tough winter. She said, "oh, dialysis patients don't have enough energy to take the bus". Pfft.

Fortunately my kidney doc stopped by an hour later and I told him what she said. He replied, "well, I've got only one thing to say - YOU GO GIRL!"

Today I did a lot of window shopping and sitting on park benchs and came home to this:

Then I decided to walk up to the grocery store. While in the checkout line, I looked at it again and this tan, lean woman wearing running shorts and a sports bra said sneeringly "oh, how far did you go?" I proudly said I'd done over 11000 steps. She then asked how long it took and I replied that it was a total throughout the day. She said "don't you know that it doesn't count if you don't do it all at once?" No. I did not. Sigh.

I wish I had the emails of the two docs who said I'd never get out of a wheelchair.

Build on the victories....

The Word in Your Hand Quilt

2011-04-06T15:10:00.010-05:00

A couple of years ago, Manny Hernandez and his wife Adrienne Davilla, founders of the Tu Diabetes community, started the Word in Your Hand project. Members were asked to write a word on their hand that represented living with diabetes, and to take a picture and send it over.

Here is a video of some of the hands. Mine is the fist on the opening frame with the word “fear” on it.

Last week, I heard from a TD friend,Marie B. Marie is a kind and wise lady who has weathered decades of living with diabetes. She is also a classic rock fan who doesn’t think I’m a freakazoid because I’m nuts about Dylan. Marie was co-recipient of the TD “Life Coach” award. She is also a master quilter.

Manny recently asked Marie to design a quilt with squares of some of the hands. She emailed me and asked if I wanted to participate. I thought “oh, for sure”. But then I looked back at my original submission. The fist represented anger and aggression. It was truly the way I felt back then. But I knew that things had changed. Why? Because I almost died and doctors continue to tell me that my survival was a miracle. Because one of my worst fears, kidney failure, has become a reality. And yet, here I am, fully participating in life. I told Marie I’d need a few days to come up with a new word, and as soon as I sent the reply, it came to me.
"Trust".

I spent some time contemplating this. Just what is it that I now trust?

I trust that:
- I did not die for a reason - there are some tasks that I still need to accomplish while among the living
- I will continue to have the strength to cope with the challenges that dialysis brings
- I will value my friendships, both in person and online
- the number of good people in this world outweigh the bad
- kind and compassionte doctors will continue to cross my path
when I need them
- my family growing closer as a result of my illness is a deep and precious gift
- no matter what lies ahead, I will be taken care of
- I can make someone's day by smiliong and saying hello
- life continues to impress me with wonderful surprises

Here is a preview of the quilt. I forgot to mention that each square has the person’s date of diagnosis. And, right next to my square is another dear sweet lady,
Robyn.

Thank you Marie. Thank you Manny. For making me contemplate a new word for my hand. It was healing and has made a difference.

Gracious a la vida que me ha dado tanto.

Please Leave Now With Your Jelly Bellys

2011-03-18T14:57:00.010-05:00

During my recovery, I frequently went downtown Minneapolis to walk in the skyways. Skyways connect the second floors of the buildings via an enclosed bridge over the street. They are nice and warm and a great alternative to trekking on the icy sidewalks.

To date, there are over 10 miles of skyways.

A couple of Sundays ago I put a lot of steps on my pedometer and my blood sugar started to crash. I had changed purses and didn't have any glucose tabs with me. I went into Marshalls, thinking "please, please let there be somethibng to treat my hypo". I almost missed them, for they were on the bottom shelf - Jelly Bellys, Tropical Flavor. Yum. Perfect.

>
I left and paused in the entrance to the store, and tried to open the package. It was shrink wrapped and I fumbled and got frustrated. Then I started to gnaw at the corner of the box - no results. Then I noticed this sign:

In my hypo-crazed thinking I interpreted "asked to leave" to mean "be arrested". Who would come and bail me out? Would I have a criminal record? Downtown is pretty quiet on Sundays and there weren't many people around. Then I saw two young men approaching, with spiked dog collars and safety pins in their eyebrows. "Excuse me, I'm type 1 diabetic and my blood sugar is low and I desperately need someone to open this." One of the lads gave a quick twist and the box popped open. He said, "Oh, I think I've heard of that happening."

Thankfully, I made it home safely. And guess what I bought the next day?

Dr F

2011-02-22T19:46:00.002-06:00

Last .Friday at dialysis was a bad day. Plain and simple.

Just as I got there they were carting someone off in an ambulance. Shortly after that, the lady next to me threatened to pull out her needles and walk away. (She is referred to as a "behavior problem".) A couple of the male staff had to hold her until she calmed down, but there was a lot of loud screaming in between.

I had forgotten my book and really didn't feel like watching another episode of Martha Stewart, or the pet channel talking about dwarf hamsters.

I kept thinking "is this what my life has crumbled down to"?

Dr. F happened to be there, making rounds of his patients. He is not my doctor, but I always thought he looked interesting - mid 60's, bald with a very twinkling smile. Each time he comes he has this Russian lady teach him a few words

The unit consists of a big square room with recliners around the perimeter and the nurses station in the center. I was in one of the corners, which is where I prefer to be.

I was surprised when Dr. F come over to me. "How are you today, Ms P?" I tried to hold back the tears and muttered something about having a bad day. He then said he sensed that things were not going well and wondered if there was anything he could do.

One of the technicians said "you better get out of her space - you done went and made her cry". He then said that I looked like a million dollars. I don't know how distorted his perception is, for my hair was sticking out at goofy angles and I had a big food stain on my shirt.........

This guy seems to be a very special person. There I was, not even his patient, tucked away in a corner, and yet he sensed I was having a bad day. What a gem.
Since my "episode" I have had a ton of kind and compassionate doctors cross my path, either for just a moment, or longer. And I cannot describe what a difference it has made.

Snow Day

2011-02-21T14:42:00.002-06:00

A Whole Nother Set of Numbers

2011-02-11T16:14:00.006-06:00

As a pwd for 37 years, I have struggled daily not to give "the numbers" more power than they deserve. The numbers simply tell us what to do next.
As a dialysis patient, there are at least four new numbers that need to be monitored - blood levels of calcium, phosphorous, protein and potassium. Too much or not enough of any of these can lead to significant health problems.
The values are printed out on a "report card" (boy do I hate that term) and given to the patient to be discussed with the nutritionist. Up until this month, my values have been good, and I silently sat there with a smug grin on my face as we went over the data.

This month, my phosphorous was out of whack.

I told Carol that nothing had changed in my diet - that I was avoiding all the things I should - cola, nuts, chocolate and whole grains. I started to get very upset and was crying quite dramatically. She seemed startled that I would get so upset about a little piece of information.
She patted my shoulder and walked away.

So, once again, the body responds in unpredictable ways. What's a person to do? I guess the best advice would be to chill out and take a nap.
Dialysis patients are supposed to eat 10 ounces of animal protein a day. There are some people at the unit who cannot afford to buy that amount of meat, and my heart breaks for them. Low levels of protein in the blood make one vulnerable to infections and an overall feeling of muscle weakness and fatigue.

I have not been testing my blood more that 1-2 times per day. But eating such large amounts of meat leaves little room for carbs. My last AlC, without even trying, came back at 6.3% - lowest ever. My primary said "oh, it's just like the Aitkins diet". I guess so. Go figure.

I once again would like to thank all of the many DOC'ers who expressed concern and emailed me well wishes. It sure makes the journey easier to know others are rooting for you. Thanks.

My Journey to The Edge

2010-12-28T19:02:00.005-06:00

On August lst I was admitted to Methodist Hospital for what was thought to be a bad case of intestinal flu. They did an ultrasound that night. The next morning I awoke to a man peering over me, with the word “oncology” on his lab coat. Gulp. He said they had seen what appeared to be an ovarian tumor, and that they would operate that afternoon. The tumor was cancerous. A couple of days later he waltzed in the room with a huge smile on his face, saying “Kathy, I’ve got the best news. The tumor was stage one, grade one and you won’t need chemo. I have every reason to expect a full recovery.” I rejoiced in the good news and thought there’d be smooth sailing ahead.

A week later, I had a heart attack. There was a blood clot in my lung. Two days later, I had another. I then sank into acute respiratory failure, and was put on a ventilator. This was a very dire situation. (My primary doc now tells me that there was doubt that I’d come out of this.)

But, I hung in there. I was still on nasal oxygen and there was little hope that I’d be able to be free of it. I was transferred to a smaller hospital, Regency, in Golden Valley. By then I was more aware of things. Although I could not move due to weakness., I insisted that they turn the oxygen level down each week. And, finally, I was free of it and my levels have been great ever since.

At the same time, however, another challenge presented itself - my kidneys crashed. I have been on dialysis 3x per week for kidney failure.

I was transferred to the Walker Methodist center about 6 weeks ago for final rehab. At first I could walk no more than a couple of steps. I could not hold my head up or turn over in bed. I had lost my swallow reflex and had to be fed through a tube in my nose and could take nothing by mouth. My tongue bled from the dryness. But, once again, I recovered, and the first sip of water was another victory to enjoy.

Once I regained strength, the physical therapists became like drill sergeants and pushed me to the limit. I would return to my room after a 30 minute session exhausted.

Finally, the day came for me to go home. The biggest challenge has been not to overdo things and pace myself accordingly. It was great to sleep in my own bed and not on a pillow with a plastic case.

Due to the dialysis schedule - 3.5 hours/3x per week, I will not be returning to work. It is very sad for me to refer to people as “a former co-worker”, for I enjoyed everyone I worked with.

In a fit of insanity, I got all of my hair chopped off. The quintessential bad haircut. But, what can I say, except “it will grow back.”

I have much to be thankful for - my insurance, which covered a whopping big hospital bill; my friend Elaine, who picked up my mail; my sister Joan and husband Merle who ran errands; my sister Jane who brought Esther to see me on Halloween Weekend in her jellyfish costume; everyone who sent cards and well wishes’; my oncologist, Peter A, who is a prince of a man and a stellar physician; my primary care doc, Steve B, who calmed me during several meltdowns.

I can’t wait until the sidewalks are clear so that I can walk outside. Alas, I guess it will be awhile.

Greet each day with joy. Do something nice for someone else. Pray for peace.

Bring Your Child To Work Day

2010-04-29T18:57:00.001-05:00

Last week we had “Bring Your Child to Work Day” at the office. I have been through many over the years and some are fun. Some are not.

I am logging onto my computer and I feel two pair of eyes on me. Their dad, let’s call him “Adam”, came over and said “these are my daughters, ‘manda and Meghan. I told them you’d help them if they needed anything - I’m going to be out of the office for an hour”. Well, ‘manda and Meghan were the cutest little girls, ages 7 and 9, all dressed up for their visit. They had moved to Minnesota a year ago from Nashville and had the most charming southern accents. Their dad set them up in an ampty office near me and told them he’d go get their “treats”.

Dad comes back with two frosted PopTarts and two cans of Mountain Dew.
He leaves. ‘manda promptly burns her mouth on the PopTart and starts screaming. But soon they were both engaged in a video they’d brought..

Half hour later - “Miss Kathy, can you help us open another treat?” Gummy Bears. I asked if they were allowed to have this and both explained that their dad doesn’t get to see them too often (mom has custody) and he wants them to have as “much fun as possible” so of course it was okay.

Adam finally comes back and says let’s look in the minifridge in his office, where he has a supply of pudding snacks. The girls squeal with delight and start shoveling the pudding. Then they got thirsty and had more soda.

But it was only 10 a.m. I was actually waiting for one of them to vomit.

Things calmed down after the kids found another girl to play with and went to investigate how the paper shredder worked. Then dad took them out for a special lunch.

They came back from lunch with a big shopping bag from Candyland, an old fashioned type confection store, and dumped its contents onto a file cabinet - jawbreakers, licorice, gumdrops. Where on earth did they have room for this huge volume of food?

One of my co-workers had been emailing all morning, asking what Adam was doing stuffing his kids with sweets. I could tell she was getting ready to confront him, and she at last stepped up to the plate.
Why are you feeding the girls all this sugar? Surely you know that eating too much sugar will give you diabetes, just like it did Kathy.By then, a couple other employees were taking in the conversation, and both looked at me and nodded solemnly. Within a second, the conversation had rotated from a dad trying to win his kid’s affection with candy, to me giving myself the db by pigging out on tootsie rolls.

I said “you know, I think I’m gonna call it a day” and left.

The next morning as I put my hand on the mouse it felt all sticky and crusty. There was a little trail of half eaten Jelly Bellys leading to the edge of my desk.

Then I heard someone say that Adam had was not coming in because both girls were sick with a weird 24 hour virus. He hoped they hadn’t been exposed to anything by coming to the office……….tough world, ain’t it?

Goodbye, Mother

2010-02-26T17:49:00.007-06:00

My mother died on Feb 16. Today I feel like I'm sitting in a maze of emptiness, with no concept of time or location.

She was 82 years old, enjoyed good health for most of her life until about 3 years ago when she was diagnosed with end-stage lung disease. She'd had breathing problems for several years, and was always tested for cardiac pathology. We'd celebrate when the angiograms came out clear, having no idea that pulmonary scar tissue was already forming in her lungs.

So, she declined, ever so gradually, but always remembered to call me on Thursday mornings, saying "hi, my girl". Then she started forgetting. One week. Then two weeks in a row. Then the numerous hospital visits started. She lived in a town 70 miles west of Minneapolis, so got to ride in a helicopter more than once. And, finally, the transition to assisted living. She'd say, "I know this is where I need to be" and the tears would roll down her face.

Two weeks ago, the staff suggested she be placed under hospice care. Throughout that day, I wandered around with my stomach in a knot, thinking "this can't be happening". My sister, niece and I had visited her on President's Day, the 15. She was very weak, but asked me to hand her the Valentines she'd gotten in the mail. She loved Valentines - the bigger and more glittery, the better. I remember my niece hugging her goodbye. I remember giving her a kiss on the forehead. I remember silently telling myself that she was just fine.

On Tue, after not having gotten out of bed in several days, she had a surge of energy and wanted to be taken to the game room to play bingo. She stayed for the entire evening. They wheeled her back to her room and she simply stopped breathing.
I got the call and spent the rest of the night sitting on the edge of the bed, staring. My dad has been gone 20 years. And yes, his death was different. At that time I was frightened because I didn't know if I could tolerate the pain of losing him. I guess I thought M's death would be easier. I am indeed glad she is no longer struggling. I'm also glad for myself - not having to jump every time the phone rings. But I still want her to call on Thur morning, telling me how busy she'd been, volunteering at the blood bank and library. Telling me that this was aboslutely the last year she was going to have a garden (well, maybe just a few extra potatoes).

The two of us never talked much about the db. I was in my late teens when diagnosed, and her only reference point was several of my young relatives had died from or were currently suffering from complications. She didn't know how to help me. I don't know what I needed. She'd ask if my testape was still negative and I'd scream back at her. My 20's were very stormy, and I think tne entire family wrote me off as a nutcase. So the silence remained until I required emergency surgery for a detatched retina. She hated the TwinCities - said it made her nervous to be here. When I called and asked if she would come and stay with me, she said "of course." For the entire 7 days that I had to lay on my face to recover, she cleaned. Tidiness is not my forte, but neither am I too slovenly. I was on heavy pain meds and would wake every so often to hear a brush tackling some new surface. "What are you doing, Mom?" ..."Oh, nothing much - do you have an owner's manual for the vacuum cleaner?"

Tonight I will be removing her picture from my family collage frame and putting it on a little table that I have for the ancestors that have passeed - my dad, uncle, and brother. The picture was taken on her 75th birthday, at a little party we had. I got her a corsage, which my sister said was stupid, but M loved it. She said she even wore it to church the next Sunday....."it was a little wilted, but I wanted them to know I got it from you".

Mom, I miss you already. I know you are in a better place. My favorite recent memory will be this past Christmas, when you had on your bright red sweater and were smiling because you family was all together. Rest in peace.

Over the Top (..or over the hill?)

2010-01-12T17:39:00.032-06:00

My friend Colleen has nominated me for the
Over the Top blog award. Colleen and I first became acquainted a couple of years ago when she was talking about the pink lady slipper. I replied back that it is the Minnesota State Flower, and we've been friends ever since. We also both wear Mary Poppins hats, although in recent days, with our below-zero weather, I've taken to
my Elmer Fudd version with the earflaps.
Colleen was also very helpful to me when my mother transitioned to assisted living. Her dad was in a nursing home and we emailed a lot about dealing with aging parents. Thanks Colleen.

Here are my responses to the survey

1. Where is your cell phone? I don't own one.

2. Your hair? Wild Oat with Carmel highlights.

3. Your mother? In assisted living.

4. Your father? Deceased for 22 years.

5. Your favorite food? Pasta salad with tuna, celery, onions, and Hellmann's real full fat mayo.

6. Your dream last night? Don't recall.

7. Your favorite drink? Ice cold Diet Pepsi with lemon.

8. Your dream/goal? Peace of mind.

9. What room are you in? Drafty bedroom.

10. Your hobby? Knitting and beadwork.

11. Your fear? Becoming disabled from db and being a burden to someone.

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Maintaining my health and aging gracefully.

13. Where were you last night? Home.

14. Something you aren't? Skinny.

15. Muffins? Blueberry

16. Wish list item? Car.

17. Where did you grow up? A small charming prairie town in central Minnesota. Free band concerts every Friday night in the park. Quiet, tree-lined streets. Neighbors helping one another.

18. Last thing you did? Ate a Lean Cuisine and two perfectly ripe clementines.

19. What are you wearing? An unbecoming fuzzy purple bathrobe and big clunky clogs my cousin brought me from Norway.

20. Your tv? Too small.

21. Your pets? None. But I'd like a miniature Schnauzer. I'd put bows in its hair.

22. Your friends? Precious beyond gold.

23. Your life? Chaotic.

24. Your mood? Anxious.

25. MIssing someone? Yes. My friend, Andrea, who died last March.

26. Vehicle? None. I gave up my car over a year ago in order to have more $ to pay diabetes expenses. However, I am very partial to Honda Civics.

27. Something you're not wearing? Medical i.d. bracelet.

28. Your favorite store? Knitpicks Online Knitting Store

29. Your favorite color? Sapphire blue.

30. When was the last time you laughed? This morning.

31. Cried? At 3 p.m. at work. My middle nephew fainted during basketball and was being evaluated for cardiac problems over the last two days. They found he has unstable blood pressure, which runs in his dad's family. It can be controlled with medication. When my sis emailed me and told me he was going to be okay, I cried, because I love him dearly.

32. Your best friend? E.

33.One place that I go over and over? Fort Snelling State Park - I call it my "hidden jewel" because it's right here in town and few people know about it. And I certainly don't go blabbing it around. It has trails for hiking and biking, a swimming beach and picnic areas. There are two picnic shelters for use in winter, with big stone fireplaces. Very peaceful on a summer afternoon, sitting under one of the big cottonwood trees......

34. One person who emails me regularly? JT, a lawyer from my company's NY headquarters. I have to check in with him, so it's not voluntary.

35. Favorite place to eat? The Bombay Bistro. Yum times ten.

And here are 3 sisters that I pass the torch to:

Zazzy, also known as my vindaloo sister. Zaz is not afraid to delve into deep emotions and has a lot o f wisdom and insight. (And two very cool kitties). She is extremely honest with her life and determined to improve it. She also has a cookiong site, Chicken and Eggs which always makes me hungry.

Next we have Molly, at
Dam Diabetes. Molly , who lives in my neck of the woods, blogs about her super-pooch, Dixie. (I think Dixie is from anoter planet.) Dixie helps Molly to safely live an active life as a schoolteacher, despite having hypo unawareness. In the summer then go canoeing at
Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota. This wilderness is populated by big mean bears, mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds, and, of course Bigfoot.

And Heidi, over at

The D Log Cabin, who writes creative poetry. Heidi is a very smart lady and knowledgeable about science, medicine and db. Heidi is also an EMT, and if I were in need of medical assistance, I'd like her to be the one to help me.

Wow. That was a lot of linking. And my 'puter ain't in a linking mood. But it was fun to get reconnected again after not posting since November.

Happy and Healthy New Year to all! xoxoxoxoxox

WDD Eve

2009-11-13T18:38:00.010-06:00

World Diabetes Day. My first thought, as through most of my post-diagnosis days, is “this isn’t fair”. Why is diabetes affecting the lives of so many across the globe that we have to have a day for it? No fair whatsoever.

I am no longer in denial of my diabetes. And blogging has helped to nurture a positive attitude, but it also brings me close and up-front to the struggles that a lot of fine people go through. As I come to know more people and consider them my friends, I get mad as a hornet knowing what db does to us, on all levels of our existence. The want to strangle the monster until it disappears in a mist of vapor.

I have many days when I’m filled with optimism - and rightly so. Research and technology are advancing exponentially and I expect many more improvements yet to come in my lifetime. But I don’t expect a cure. And so here I am, stuck in the foreverland of being a person with diabetes.

I don’t know if it’s the stage of life that I’m in, or the fact that my mother is on the home stretch, or my job insecurity, but lately I’ve been feeling very nostalgic and thinking about growing up and times gone by. Some surprisingly poignant and lovely memories have crept out of the shadows, like berry picking on my g’ma’s farm, and ice fishing with my dad, and sneaking away to go shopping in a “big town” with my high school girlfriends.

Tonight on the eve of WDD, I remember my relatives who have died from TiDM.

The first person (that we know of) was diagnosed in 1945. Age 9. She died 7 years later. And several more died after that.

These people who shared my bloodline

- had to boil their glass syringes (as one of my TD friends put it, “the needles always develoved barbs on them so they hurt coming out as well as going in”
- had to put urine and a fizzy tablet in a test tube
- had to adhere to a ridgid exchange system, where there was no room for a pancake or brownie
- did not have ACE inhibitors to protect their kidneys
- did not have statins to control blood lipids
- faced across the board job descrimination
- had no publications, support groups and Online Communities to help with the difficult emotions.

There should probably be a whole other day of remembrance for those who died before the discovery of insulin.

But tomorrow, please don’t forget the people who bravely faced life in the early days of insulin. Let the strength of their collective spirit carry you forward when you face challenging times.

All of us, old/young; type 1/type 2; pumpers/pokers; newly diagnosed/veterans are in this together. The ocean refuses no river. Do something nice for somebody tomorrow. Trust life. Press on to a better future, for all of us.

Click here for lyrics to the song below. You won't be disappointed.

Stranger to My Kin

2009-08-13T19:00:00.002-05:00

Last weekend I went with my sister F and niece E to a family reunion in my home town. I agreed to go because F is close to a couple of second cousins who were visiting from out of state and I agreed to stick pretty close to my mom, in case she became disoriented.

TIDM is prevalent in my extended family. My g’ma had 11 siblings and my dad had 78 cousins. It was the generation of the children of the 78 cousins that developed db - no cases outside of that (yes, I still get anxious if my nephews ask for a refill on their pop).

So, there have been 34 of us diagnosed - the first in 1949 and the last in 1995. 19 are dead, with the rest of us in various states of health. Many of them live on the west coast so only myself and another man represented the db contingent of the family at the gathering. I have never spoken with any of these people about living with db. I don’t care to.

We were also celebrating my M’s 82nd birthday and had brought a big cake to share. F was cutting it and E and I passing out pieces.

My great-aunt L was there with her identical twin sister, B. B is obnoxious and outspoken and rude. She has never been a favorite of mine.

L has a grandson with T1, now 35 years old, in a nursing home. He had some major strokes a few years. ago and is essentially unresponsive.

So, I line the little paper plates up my forearm and head over to where L and B are sitting. The conversation went like this:

L: Now, who are you?
K: I’m H’s daughter, Kathy.
L whispers to B: She takes those shots too.
B: How awful. I can’t think of anything worse to have.
L: Neither can I. Terrible. Just terrible.
B: Why are you carrying that cake? You can’t have cake.
K: It’s my mom’s birthday cake.
B: But you can’t have any.
K: (smiles and contemplates smashing the cake in B’s face)
L: No, she can’t have any.
L: Did you know that they had to cut off part of G’s foot before he died? It was from the sugar.
B: Why, most people who have it are just skin and bones. You don’t look like you’ve missed many meals.
K: Yes, I am thankful that I have enough to eat when so many are starving across the globe.
B: Do you get those terrible pains in your legs like W’s kid?
K: No, I don’t.
B: It’s horrible. Just horrible. And to think you can’t have your mother’s b’day cake. Why are they making you serve cake you can’t have?

By then the conversation was starting to pierce my armor, like a knife twisting its way around my heart. I was feeling vulnerable.I I was close to tears and wanted to yell, “yes, I have diabetes but I’m not a freak”. Then it seemed to me that everyone in the room was staring at me, commenting to themselves that over there is one of “the diabetics in the family.”

No, I did not feel like sitting down and calmly talking about my treatment routine. B just wouldn’t get it. It would have been wasted effort. And I also didn’t want L to start talking about her grandson - do you think I need to be reminded about what db can do to a person?

But I wasn’t seeing the entire picture. B is a bitter lady, being very envious that her twin had a relatively comfortable life and B hadn’t enough to make ends meet. That sort of history can make your attitude spiteful and distorted. Maybe it validates one’s misery to focus on all the hardship in the world.

B: (pointing to my niece) Who is that girl? How did she get invited when she’s not one of the relatives?
K: That’s F’s daughter, E. She became a member of our family 5 years ago when F brought her home from China.
B: Well, I’ve heard those Korean orphans are all the daughters of prostitutes.
K. Maybe so, but she is very precious to us and we love her a lot.
B: Did they check her for worms when she got here?
K: (you’ve got to be kidding).

Well, by that time I sure didn’t want any cake, nor the variety of casseroles (made with condensed soup and attractively garnished with pimento) that were served later.

I said to F, “I need to get out of here”. and she agreed. So we took M back to the residence and I got in the backseat with E to work on old Beatle songs, which we practice in the car. She has tired of “Good Day Sunshine” and moved on to “Yellow Submarine”. Then she reminded me how much she dislikes the White Album.

F suggested we stop at Red Lobster, since we both were famished. We split a big platter of shrimp and crab, and the events of the day were blamed on small town living, old age, and the cake that “I couldn’t have”.

Phantom Carbs?

2009-07-25T21:12:00.004-05:00

I was in Target today, without a shopping list, and magically my cart became full. Who would have guessed that I needed that much stuff?

Right by the checkout stand was a big display of this:

SoBe Lifewater - "vitamin enhanced water beverage". See that big "0 Calories" at the top of the label? Cool. Sounds yummy. And on sale for $1. I took a bottle of the mango melon flavor.

I got home and was unpacking my stuff, and started to read the back label to see what vitamins it was enhanced with. Yes, I frequently make unwise choices with regard to self-care, but I always read labels. Maybe I'm just curious.

2.5 servings per bottle. 6 gm carbohydrate per serving. SAY WHAT? How can something have carbs but no calories. Carbs and proteins have 4.5 calories per gram; and fats have 9 calories per gram. If I drank the entire bottle, that would be 15 carbs - enough to certifiably treat a hypo.

What is it that I'm not getting here? Someone please explain, or else I'm going to have to call the 800# on Monday morning.

CVS To The Rescue

2009-06-20T20:07:00.007-05:00

I got to work on Friday morning and was going to have some shredded wheat for breakfast. I opened my purse, and, no insulin. Rarely does this happen.

We have no pharmacies within walking distance of my office. It's an hour bus ride to get back home. I needed all the time possible to prepare for a lunch meeting with some people from our corporate headquarters so could not afford to leave the office even for a few minutes.

I get good coverage from my basal insulin, and could easily do without breakfast. And probably lunch, also, for that matter. But, I did not want to draw attention to the db and sit there not eating anything and having to explain that not only do I have a medical condition, but I forgot my insulin.

Called a Walgreens a couple of miles away. No they do not deliver. No, they knew of no pharmacies that did.

Called a couple of independent pharmacies. Same story.

Called CVS and was immediately talking to the pharmacist. "Are you okay at the moment?" I told her I was fine and needed the insulin in about 3 hours for prandial coverage. "Well, normally, if an order is called in prior to 11 a.m., we'll guarantee delivery by 5 that afternoon. But this is a special case and I'll see what I can do and call you back."

Bless her heart. This dear woman phoned back in about 10 minutes and said she had contacted a private courier service that would get the insulin to me. I explaned that I knew Humalog was a prescription item but I was willing to go with Humalin, which is not. I gave her my credit card number and 30 minutes later the courier delivered the little paper sack. Our receptionist called me and said "Kathy, some man brought you something from the drugstore and he said to be sure you knew it had to be refrigerated right away".

So, the day was happily saved by the professional kindness of a stranger. And, there was no additional charge for the courier. On Monday I am going to call the CVS corporate headquarters and see just who should get the letter commending the people for good work.

I guess an obvious question would be why didn't I have the Humalog script transferred to the CVS pharmacy? Well, I had left a message at my pcp's office first thing. They returned it at 2 that afternoon, after the meeting was over. I know them well enough not to expect a time-sensitive response. Aaarrrrgggghhhh!

We work with the facts of the situation. And sometimes are pleasantly surprised.

Time Thief

2009-05-24T19:09:00.010-05:00

Last Monday, I had the pleasure of celebrating my oldest nephew's graduation from the University of Minnesota.

(Isn't he just impossibly cute?) Yes, his mother cried. Yes, I cried. I had such a big jumble of emotions inside me, I had to sit down on a bench for a couple of minutes.

Never, ever, did I expect to still be living on this day. And yet here I am, with 35 years of db under my belt. I work and support myself. I am a valued friend and family member, and contribute to my community. At present I have nothing to be p-ssed off about. Except the years that db stole from me. Or, were they the years I willingly gave away?

I remember the day that L was born. My sister called me at work, and after I hung up the phone I went into the supply room and cried among the sticky notes and rubber bands. Not tears of joy, but tears of rage because I mostly likely wouldn't be around to see this little boy enter first grade.

Their family lived about 4 hours north of here, so I saw L maybe 3 times a year. Sure, I sent birthday cards and Xmas gifts, but, I kept my distance because I didn't want him to know and love an auntie who dropped dead in her 30's. (Yeah, I know. Makes no sense to me now).

It wasn't until he came to Minneapolis to start college that I let down my defenses. I invited him to lunch. He had initially intended on becoming a pharmacist so it was no problem for me to test my blood in front of him. Each time we got together, our visits became more intimate and all the years of distance dropped away. I know that he and I talked about things that he was not willing to discuss with his parents. And I'm thankful he felt confident to share these issues with me.

So, off he is going to his first job as an actuary at the State Farm Insurance headuarters in Bloomington Illinois. And, I'm full expecting to be around to dance at his wedding. Yes, it's a strange feeling. But I'm okay with that.

Heck, why not really tempt fate and fully expect to be around to dance at this little gal's wedding?

No her mother did not forget to wash her face. E had been to a birthday party with a lady bug theme. Hence and red and black dots.

John Lennon said that "life is what happens when you're making other plans". Well, I guess I was planning to die. And now I'm planning to live. Don't know for how long. Let's just leave that open.

Ipod Shuffle

2009-04-24T18:16:00.004-05:00

My favorite fun thing, the Ipod Shuffle, is once again circulating on the OC. I consider music to be a primary healing force in my life. So, then, why couldn't I find my Ipod? I have no idea where it is, but I did find what I think is the charger.........I took these 20 off my ITunes shuffle (and now that i've gotten going, will be playing tunes for the rest of the evening).

1) Purple Rain - Prince
2) Farther On - Jackson Browne
3) Midnight Rider - Willie Nelson
4) The Very Thought of You- Natalie Cole
5) Amelia - Joni Mitchell
6) Life in the Fast Lane - The Eagles
7) Tenderness - Stppenwolf
8) Fortune Teller - Robert Plant and Allison Krauss
9) How Can One Woman Be So Mean - Buddy Guy and Junior Wells
10) Smile - Tony Bennett
11) Carnival Town - Norah Jones
12) Travelin' Band - Creedence Clearwater Revival
13) I Want to Satisfy You - Leon Russell
14) Harvest - Neil Young
15) Brownsville Girl - Bob Dylan
16) Crazy Love - Cassandra Wilson
17) Sweet Baby James - James Taylor
18) Raining in My Soul - Guy Davis
19) A Case of You - Diane Krall
20) Somewhere Down the Crazy River - Robbie Robertson

Ok, so I'm old.

As far as rock videos go, I always watch this when I'm feeling low on energy - watch these guys rock the blazes out of an old hit

Sprouting in the Dark

2009-04-05T20:25:00.009-05:00

Last Christmas I received a flower bulb kit from one of my nephews.

I forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago when I was thinking about spring clothes and discovered it in the corner of my closet. I thought that the bulb was perhaps dead from not being tended to. I had to look twice when I opened the box, for there it was, sprouting and with green shoots coming out the top - in the dark! Mercy.

I put it into soil and the perfect spot on my windowsill. And here is what we have today.

Gosh, neglected, discarded and still the potential to bloom. I know, of course, that bulbs represent the dormant/resting stage of a plant. But still, this seemed like a miracle.

In March I passed over the 35 year mark of having diabetes. It still floors me. I took it for granted that I wouldn't make it much past 20 and was absolutely certain that I'd be dead before I reached the 25 year anniversary. ..........sigh.........and here I remain today. Since I started blogging, I wonder if things would have been different in the early years had I had an online community to talk with. After all, the only examples of pwd's were my relatives, most of them suffering from debilitating complications. I didn't know anybody who was living well with db. I only knew that at family gatherings the conversation would stop when one "of us" walked into the room. And then there'd be the hushed commentat that she "takes those shots too". My small town family practitioner knew nothing, and that was not his fault. When I was in the hospital he just kept increasing my single dose of NPH until the fasting glucose the next morning was within range. Sheesh - how did any of us survive?

I believe it is because life, all living things, have within them the greatest of potential for survival, just like the bulb in my closet. I believe that it's never too late for good control, and I believe that the possibility for renewal and healing are always close at hand. Sure, I gave up on myself many many times. But by grace or fate or fortune, was always able to rise back to the surface.

Spring has arrived here in Minnesota. The snow is gone, the sidewalks are dry and the trees will soon be showing new growth. Tomorrow I will wake up to a handful of oral meds, needles, lancets and the certain assurance that I'm still happy to be here.

Test Strips MIA

2009-02-18T17:50:00.002-06:00

I sure hope I don't have to write too many more posts about the mail order pharmacy. This is getting irksome.....

In mid-January I had my primary fax them a prescription for test strips - 8 per day. I checked my account online that evening and it said "processing order". A week later it was still processing, and a week later as well. I called and the woman said she'd have to do some research. 3 days later I found out that under my new plan, the max that are covered are 6 per day, and since mine was for 8, they had "put it aside". Put it aside? Give me a break.

I squawked a bit and a supervisor said that since it was their error, they would overnight me the supply. I explained that there would be no one home to sign for it, but standard mail would be just fine. No problem.

Two weeks later, still no strips. I had a great day off for President's Day, and upon coming home in the afternoon noticed a cardboard box laying on the sidewalk near the door to my building. I picked it up to take to the trash, and, guess who it was addressed to? Why me!

Yes indeed, inside were 6 boxes of One Touch Strips, along with a large bottle of what turned out to be anti-seizure medication (which I've never taken).

Fortunately it was a warm day - about 30 degrees. I made a quick call to One Touch and they said it was okay if the strips had sat outside for a couple hours. Just don't use them until they've warmed up.

I was telling my neighbor about this and he said "great - you can say you never got the order and then have a bunch extra for free"

Why not? I sort of liked the idea and scrambled to come up with moral and rational reasons to do this:

1) I have had db for 35 years and deserve a break
2) Express Scripts is a huge profitable company and can esaily absorb the loss
3) I didn't ask for this to happen. It's UPS' fault
4) Had the timing been different, somebody else would have come along, opened the box and then tossed it
5) It would be really nice to have an extra suppply as a cushion - for sick days and such
6) Because I had not signed for the pacakage, it would be impossible to prove that I'd received it

I was still pondering the swhen a couple of distractions put it aside. The next day at work, ES called to see if I'd gotten the package. I reluctantly said yes, and added, for drama, that it was laying in the street. The woman said "well, once it's been turned over to UPS, it's out of our hands". Gee, lady. Thanks a lot.

I am not a model citizen. I smuggle pop into the movies. I have gone fishing without a license and exceeded the speed limit. I have stolen driftwood from a state park.

If the same think happens again, there is every chance that I'd respond differently. But sometimes it's just easier to tell the truth.

The Mail Order Pharmacy

2009-01-26T18:52:00.002-06:00

In 2009 my wonderful HMO was dropped by my employer. We switched to Empire Blue Cross and a mailorder pharmacy which shall remain nameless. Last year my insulin co-payment was $15/vial and I could pick it up at a neighborhood drugstore 2 blocks away. This year it is $25/vial and has to come in the mail.

I began researching this back in November, when we were first notified. The conversations went something like this:

K: Hi, I'm going to be on your plan in '09 and have type 1 diabetes. How is the insuln shipped?

ES: How do you spell that?

K: Spell what?

ES: Whatever it is you wanted shipped.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Well, I knew this was going to be a long process. I found out that insulin is shipped overnight in cold packs.

2nd call.

K: Hi. I,m trying to get something figured out here - I take insulin and know that you ship it overnight. I work during the day and I cannot receive personal mail at work. Whar are my options?

ES: We can leave it with a neighbor.

K: All my neighbors work too.

ES: We can leave it by the door.

K: It was below zero here today.

ES: Then you might want to be careful it doesn't freeze.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next day I speak with my boss, who says that due to security regulations, I cannot receive personal mail at work. Maybe I should rent a mailbox.
Closest PO Boxes are 22 blocks away. Hmmmmmmm. don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry

A few days later I enlist the help of our company's Health Care Advocate. She says don't call ES at night as they are losers. We'll call during the day and ask to speak with a supervisor. I secretively dash into a private office at lunch and the advocate and I call, get put on hold, and soom I must return to my desk.

The next day I'm walking home from the bus and have a revelation as I go past the Fed Ex/Kinkos store in my neighborhood - maybe it could be sent there and they could hold it for me? Go in and ask the manager, who looks like he's about 12. "oh, I've never heard of that - I don't know if we can or not".

3 days later, stop in when there is a more "official" looking person behind the counter. "Sure, we do it all the time. Just have it set to youself, care of us - you can track it onlne and the day it's delivered stop by and pick it up." Whew. Problem Solved.

Call ES.
K:I would like to have my insulin shipped and held for pick up at a Fed Ex location - is that okay
ES: Well, we can't guarantee that.
E: Why not?
ES: Sometimes that doesn't work. I think you'll have to speak with the pharmacist, but they're not here at this time of night. We let them be home with their families.
K; What is a pharmacist going to be able to tell me about shipping?
ES: Just call tomorrow during regular hours.
===================================================================================
Me and the advocate call ES during the day and ask for a supervisor.

"Sure, we've done that before - just look your account up online, get the tracking number, and watch to see when it's been delivered to the store. Should work just fine?.

Well. I feel about 60% confident that this will work. One of my co-workers just told me today that they got 24 month's worth of her husband's migraine meds, when they were supposed to get 3. Luckly they were only charged for 3.

DB sure teaches us various aspects of problem solving. I feel sort of smug that I figured this out, and majorily pissed off hat I had to do it myself.

Practice Vlog

2009-01-18T18:34:00.004-06:00

I have been very curious about putting up a video here. (Up until last week I didn't even know how to take videos with my camera.) Becoming a blogger has taught me a lot of things, aside from those related to db. Cool.
This was taken last weekend, when we went to visit my mom in a smalltown west of Minneapolis.

The Winter of my Frozen Face

2009-01-03T16:51:00.004-06:00

I have enjoyed reading everybody's recaps of the closing year and hopes for '09.

My holidays were reasonably nice - quiet, simple and stressfree - just the way I like it. I thought that I was cruisin' along quite balanced, until a clerk said a bright "happy new year" to me on Friday and I burst into tears. Yes, it startled me too.

Annual holidays always bring many thoughts of fear into my mindset. A lot can happen in a year. A lot can go wrong with diabetes in a year. Fear shouts to me, "where will you be a year from now, Kathy? - Think of all those decades that you did't take care of yourself. They're bound to catch up with you, sooner or later."

For whatever reason, my image of fear is a Humphrey Bogart man, dressed in a shabby trenchcoat, fedora hat, smoking a cig and standing at the end of my sidewalk, sneering. In the recent years, I have developed some pretty good skills to ignore him. So he comes - let him stand there as long as he wants. Just don't invite him in for tea and cookies. He will soon get tired and go pester someone else.

This winter we've so far had 13 days where the temperature has dipped below zero. Last winter, our total was 3. A co-worker and I were talking about this and she remarked that it's harder to deal with knowing that we've got at least 2 months remaining. It would be a lot easier to tolerate if the end was in sight.

Well, the end is never in sight with db, and that's what's been difficult these last days.

So, in the meantime, we all do what we can. I put on my fancy high-tech face mask (designed so that your glasses don't fog up).

And, if necessary, my Mary Poppins hat.

No, there isn't much of a smile under there, but a certain satisfaction in the fact that I know I'll be comfortable at the bus stop.

And, there is also a satisfaction in knowing that if I do all that I can to take care of the db, then I will probably be here a year from now. Maybe with some amazing adventures to look back on.

Happy New Year to all my friends. May you be served with peace, joy, and fulfillment in 2009!

Phase 2 Mittens

2008-12-05T19:20:00.005-06:00

Shucks, winter is here. We are getting some heavy snow right now - that's Minnesota for you.

I am thankful that I have a big supply of warm clothes and accessories. Inluding my walk to the bus stop and then the wait, I can be out in the elements anywhere from 10-30 minutes. It's best to be prepared.

These are my Phase 1 gloves, from the Dollar Store. I always lose them so will buy 4 pairs at a time. Phase 1 weather is between 20-40 degrees.

Then we come to Phase 2, about 0-20 degrees. These are mittens I knit and the pattern called them "Traditional Latvian Mittens", but we all know that things change over time and continents. There is another wool mitten inside, but, they are really not as warm as they look.

And finally, when it's below zero, we have to call on the big guys. The Phase 3's are lined with goosedown. I ordered them from Canada 10 years ago and guard them with my life. See that big diagonal ridge? That's where the down has lumped up, but if I put them in the dryer on low, the lump will disappear.

Today was a Phase 2 day. As I was getting ready to get off the bus, the woman next to me said, "oh, are those the mittens with that insulin from 3M"? Obviously she meant
Thinsulate, a synthetic product made to add warmth to outdoor clothing. I told her no, they weren't, but I had some insulin in my purse. She replied, "well, that's good - you can't go wrong with a nice warm handbag".

No, I guess you can't.

D Blog Day - Convenience

2008-11-08T14:25:00.010-06:00

I am in a bad mood. And, like a lot of people, it's about money.

A couple of weeks ago my '99 Honda Civic, Phoebe, began having some problems. Hondas are good cars, but the older ones are vulnerable to headgasket problems, which are expensive to fix. I was looking at a bill of close to $4000, which was a lot, but I thought I could swing it.

That same week, we were told at work that there would be a 10% paycut, begining in '09. We also had 2 lay-offs in my office, leaving the rest of the staff feeling irritable and anxious. Then we got our benefits info for '09. My HMO was no longer offered. I will be switching to Blue Cross and my cost per pay period will rise from $58 to $125. I currently am paying nothing for test strips, but next year will have a 10% co-payment. I also pay nothing for lab tests, but next year another 10% co-payment. All of these 10%s can add up to a lot of dough. Some of the younger people with good health are choosing to not have insurance at all. I cannot take that risk.

I am giving up the car. At least for now. Minneapolis has a reasonable public transportation system, and I am already taking the bus to work. I won't have to shovel it out for snow emergencies, or worry about it starting after a stretch of below-zero weather. I have lots of warm clothes and the extra walking will do me good.

I can clearly feel myself blaming the diabetes for this. It is convenient to blame the db for everything that goes wrong in my life.............

I am getting old and don't like it...blame the diabetes.
I think I saw a strand of grey hair ...blame the diabetes.
I am no longer comfortable wearing high heels all day and feel like a frumpy school marm in flat shoes ...blame the diabetes.
My dvd player is broken.. blame the diabetes
My neighborhood is no longer quiet and quaint...blame th ediabetes
Winter is coming to Minnesota...blame the diabetes.

Last weekend I was out doing errands. It was cold and gray. Then, I came upon this (and fortunately had my camera):

We had already had a hard freeze, yet still these little guys were showing themselves, magnificent against the shriveling brown vines. And, my favorite shades of blue. Now, had I been driving in my car, I would have missed out on this blatant message that there is goodness and beauty around us - just keep your eyes open.

This next year I'm going to try to put the db into it proper place in my life - and shoot, I don't know what that might be. Too much focus and I am preoccupied and overwhelmed and conveniently dump all of my discontent into the db box; too little focus and I feel unwell and my life is shortened. DB is just one of many threads woven into the structure that we use to define ourselves. And I need to decide where it fits in.

Happy D Blog Day to all of my precious friends. You're the best!

Walking on Eggshells

2008-10-01T18:42:00.004-05:00

This last weekend, my sister F and niece Emily made the 70 mile drive to central Minnesota to look in on my mother. We'd received a call from assisted living that she was coughing a lot and also very tired.

We took her to the dr, who said that she "perhaps" had pneumonia. They couldn't tell by a chest x-ray because there was too much scar tissue from the emphysema, nor could he tell by listening to her lungs. I said "pneumonia is very serious in someone with existing lung problems, right?" He then muttered that we should hope that it was pneumonia, which could be treated. Worsening emphysema cannot - one just progresses further down the tunnel of poor health. My M does not have much of a margin left before her quality of life is totally hosed.

So, it was not a happy visit. On the way home, Em and I were sitting in the backseat, playing travel bingo and working on learning some old Beatle songs. I took out my meter and lanced my finger. Em said, "wow - is that blood?". I told her that yes, it was blood, and that I was going to put it on a little piece of plastic and then a number would show up on the screen. We waited and looked at the number. I told her that the number tells me what to do next to take care of myself.

A few minutes later we pulled into a gas station and F turned around and shouted "don't you ever do that again - Emily is traumatized". Well, that was news to me. Em was singing "Good Day Sunshine" somewhat offkey but with a lot of gusto.

In truth, it was F that does not want to be reminded that I have db. She was very close to one of my cousins that died from it a couple of years ago. None of my immediate family has ever seen me take an injection, and I've always discreetly treated my hypos. It's a lot to keep up with. But no, I musn't upset anybody.

When we got back to my place they both came in to try on a sweater that I'm knitting for Em. F was in the kitchen and saw a piece of paper on my frig. Plain and simple, it is a list of all my meds and db stuff that I need to pack when we go home for my M's final days and/or funeral. F knew that and then again blew up. "You've already got her dead and in the grave - how can you think like that?" I calmly told her that the list had been written 9 months ago. I took it and moved it to the side of the fridge.

F is a high strung person, and my M's illness has been difficult for her. She refuses to talk about the funeral when M brings it up, but, I have. I don't know how to handle these episodes but to keep my mouth shut and not stir the pot.

I've talked to my friend Elise about it and told her that I was willing to make the compromise so that I could be a part of Emily's life. She said, "but there's no compromise involved. You are letting F dictate all your actions - she is not giving up anything". Hmmmm.

Well, hopefully she's cooled down. I'm tired of tiptoeing, and need to take the stage front and center, with everything that belongs to me. DB and ailing mother included.

Complicated Fear

2008-08-19T16:53:00.006-05:00

I have had two moments in my db career disrupted by a fear so acute that I felt like I was being devoured.

One was 12 years ago, when I tried Lantus and ended up with a "reaction" which put me in the hospital for 8 nights with symptoms of heart failure. That was a lot of time to think about death and disability. (My heart is fine.) The second was 6 years ago when I had emergency surgery for my detached retina and had to lie face down, not moving, for 7 days as it healed. The doc said the outcome could be anything from being able to recognized shapes to possible 20/60 vision. I recovered to 20/30 vision and remain one of his "best success stories".

I figure that at some point my luck will run out...................and thought I was at that point a month ago.

I'd had a high fever for a couple of days with no other symptoms. I went to Urgent Care and the doc was mystified. She kept going down the list and said in addition to a chest x-ray they would do a urinalysis to see if anything showed signs of infection.

After a long wait back in the exam room, the doc came in and asked if I had kidney disease. I told her no, and that my last a/c ratio (albumin/creatinine ratio) was normal and that had been done 4 months ago. I told her that I had some urine spillage about 6 years ago that subsided after I started on an ace inhibitor. She explained that I had a "huge amount" of protein in my urine and I interuppted and said "well, that could be due to an infection, right" and she then said there were no other factors which indicated an infection and that this was probably "acute onset diabetic nephropathy".
Oh. My.

I got home and my inner monologue was something like this - "....ok, ok.........so my kidney's might be failing.......maybe it's early in the process....... maybe I've lived long enough.........maybe I'll die and then not have to deal with all this crud anymore........". One of my relatives had just been taken off
the kidney/pancreas transplant list because his condition had weakened to the point where he would not survive the surgery.

The next morning I called my pcp's office and asked that the doc review the notes and call me back. The nurse phoned back in 20 minutes and said "the dr. wants to see you immediately - you need to come in today - we'll make room for you". Gulp. By then I was in that robot-like numbness where I send myself when things get too scary.

Dr. Steve came in the room and said that yes, this was a problem and needed to be addressed. We'd start with a 24 hour urine collection. Fortunately, the creatinine level in my blood was normal, but, it doesn't start to elevate until about half your kidney function is gone.

So I waited a few days to calm down and then did the collection. I brought the jug to the lab on July 17 and was told that my pcp would call me with the results, usually within a few days. The next week I jumped every time the phone rang at work and held my breath while listening to my messages at home. I made a couple of significant errors at work and was overtly mean to a couple of good friends. No news.

The next Monday, the 28th, I called the clinic and said I wanted the pcp to call me with the results. I was told he was on vacation. I asked to speak with his nurse and no, only the doc can give you the results. I asked to speak with whoever was covering for him but never got a call back.

I decided that I didn't care if I was dying or not - and conveniently erased the prior 3 weeks from my mind and stumbled about on auto-pilot.

Then, last Friday, August 15th, I got a letter from the doc. He wrote "Kathy, your kidneys look good. I don't know what the episode was about but presently there is nothing to indicate any damage or to be concerned about. See you in 3 months.".
Soooooooo.......I wasted a month of summer walking around like a zombie. I am too emotionally exhausted to be angry, and then, who would I be pissed off with? Maybe it was a lab error; maybe it was the body trying to tell me that I need to pull in the reins and improve my control; maybe it was a higher source reminding me that I am very lucky. Sigh..................

On a closing note, we have a lovely party last weekend for my mom's 81 birthday. She has had several major episodes of illness in the last 2 years and been in assisted living since February. Sometimes when I call her she is in la-la land. But, on the day of the celebration she was extremely good, as you can see on the picture. With her is my precious niece, Emily. Em came to be with our family just before her first birthday, and cracked open all of our hearts with the soft tap of one tiny finger...........sniffle, sniffle.

Dr Steve

2008-07-12T19:24:00.004-05:00

Dr. Steve is my primary care physician. Because I do not pump and do not have an A1C over 8, my insurance will pay for one endo visit per year. The others are with the pcp.

Last Tuesday I was at the clinic for cholesterol bloodwork. I got there at 7:30 and knew that I was crashing - the really bad crash where you sweat buckets. The phlebotomist came to get me and I stood up but did not follow her - just stood there. I was able to explain that I was T1 and low. She said, "oh, my aunt has diabetes and she takes Glucophage" (what's that got to do with the price of eggs?).
She asked me my date of birth and I couldn't remember. She asked me how old I was and I guess I answered correctly. Then she had to peel all the little labels off my sheet and carefully attach each one to a tube. Finally the blood was drawn and she brought me a can of juice which I gulped in one swig. "You're feeling better now, right?" I stumbled out to the reception area and fell into a chair.

I got up to Internal Medicine and sat in the exam room for 50 minutes. I do not like sitting in exam rooms - I get freaked out and my mind races about illness and death. The copy of Ardhitectural Digest was of no interest. The nurse came and took my bp and it was 135/75. That upset me more. Plus, I was exhausted from the hypo and my hair was flat and stringy from the sweat.

Dr. Steve came in looking quite frazzled. He said my LDL was 118, up from last time and that in pwd it should be less than 100. "Let's get started on Zocor right away."

I respond how I usually do - started crying. I was upset and then started spewing off how I felt like I was always a bunch of numbers on a piece of paper and no one at the clinic treated me like a person. Poor guy, he did not deserve this. I have been eating poorly -making very unwise choices, using my mother's illness as an excuse. I was not surprised at the higher reading.

I need to cut the doc a little slack. After all, the numbers on the paper give him the information to make the proper decisions for my care.

He left with the agreement that I would try a small dose at night for 6 weeks and then we'd retest and reevaluate. No biggie.

Patients who have a high bp reading must at the end of their appointment go into another room and have three more readings done at 5 minute intervals by a machine. By then I'd calmed down and the average was 116/68. Good.

Yesterday I got the letter from Dr. Steve with all my results on paper.

Note how he altered the salutation...............that meant a lot to me.

Don't Blame the Bagels

2008-07-02T18:13:00.003-05:00

When things go wrong on the db front due to me ignoring the facts, it's very tempting to put the blame outside of myself. DB is so hard to live with. I hate it. Blah blah blah.....

I work in an office of 90 people. It is an unwritten tradition that people bring treats on their birthday. Usually it's bagels, because Brueggers is nearby and they deliver for free (!!)

If asked the question re which food really plays havoc with my bg, bagels are near the top of the list. Those dang bagels. They always cause me to spike. It's not fair.

But it isn't really the bagsl's fault. A standard Brueggers bagel has over 60 grams of carb. I did not realize this until 10 years ago when I was in the hospital and the dietician was discussing what I usually had for lunch. I told her I brought my lunch to work but on occasion I'd go and get a bagel sandwich. She told me that a B. bagel had four carb exchanges. Yikes.

I am very sensitive to carbs in the morning and sometimes even delay breakfast until about 9 a.m. My ins/carb ratio is 1/5 at the beginning of the day, but by evening I'm at 1/20. Thinking from a logical standpoint, there is no way that I'm going to come through 60 grams of cho at 7:30 a.m. withput a spike. Rapid acting insulin is great, but it can only do so much.

So this morning when we got the "treats in the lunchroom" e-mail, I had to consciously remind myself that a better choice would be to take 1/2 of a bagel and save it for later in the morning. It worked. And involved only a small compromise.. Hopefully I can practice this enough times for it to become automatic, minus the self-pity.

To the collective bagel community, I apologize for casting you as the villain. Please forgive me.

Happy Independence Day. Enjoy the long weekend, travel safely, and cherish the freedom and opportunity this country affords us.

No Way

2008-05-31T18:41:00.009-05:00

I had a bone scan a couple of weeks ago and am going to get the results this week when I go for my pcp appointment. I am already very anxious about yet another test, waiting for results, and maybe having to take yet another pill. No way!

In addition to insulin, I also take oral meds for blood pressure, thyroid, ace inhibitors for my kidneys, antidepressants and sleep meds. As each one of these was added, I felt an immense sense of failure - yet another thing going wrong with an already trashed body. Maybe I'll have to get an extra-large M - S compartmentalized pill box - my current ones barely fit now. I hate it...............

I need to reframe this mindset. Many of my relatives did not make it to the 34 year anniversary, and I have. As we age, we all tend to get "regular-people" stuff. I am convinced that the ace-inhibitors played a big part in returning my kidney function to normal. And, the anti-depressants help me to not run through my days from one crazy woman meltdown to the next. I have already broken an ankle. If I have thinning bones, then another med may protect me from a broken hip, or something worse. I have good insurance to pay for these drugs. So, if necessary, I can do this.

Today while coming home from the grocery store, I dropped my keys on the edge of the sidewalk. There was some really beautiful foliage growing adjacent to it, and after taking a closer look, discovered that they were Lily of the Valley leaves, and that there were tons of perfect little flowers hidden among the leaves. So I picked a few (well, actually, sort of stole them, but I don't think anybody cared) to remind me that as we go through our days, little bits of pleasure are priceless.

>

See Birdie's post dated May 27 for discussion on a similar theme.

Have a great weekend.

"10 Things" Meme

2008-05-16T19:44:00.004-05:00

Donna, my fellow Lynryd Skynryd and Chicago fan, has tagged me for the "List 10 Weird/Random Facts About Yourself" Meme.

1)My real name is "Kathy", not "Kathleen" or "Katherine". My favorite uncle always called me "Katrina".

2)When I was a little tyke, I used to go ice fishing with my dad. Ice fishing was very well depicted in the "Grumpy Old Men" movies. You sit in a little wood house and drill a hole in the ice and drop your line in. You shouldn't talk as it might scare the fish. Then you drink something hot from a thermos. Then you go and visit the other houses. Finally, your toes are numb and it's time to go home.

3)My favorite fragrance is gardenia.

4)In 1972, when I was in high school, my girlfriends and I took my dad's car (without permission) and drove to St. Cloud (where Milemaster Sarah lives) to see our very first concert. We did not know much, if anything, about the performer, but heck, it was a real true concert. The artist's name was Elton John.

5)Several years ago I worked weekends at a living history farm. It depicted life along the river in the 1800's. I answered questions and told people not touch anything. I wore the full costume, complete with ankle boots, bloomers and a corset under a long sleeved dress with high collar, plus a bonnet. It wasn't too bad until we got into summer - try being enthusiastic about the settlers when every inch of your body is oozing sweat and you can't breath......

6 My next door neighbor has two standard poodles, names "Arthur" and "Guinevere". They are often out walking as I leave for the bus. During the winter, he lets their fur grow shaggy for warmth, and each spring gives them the traditional pom-pom cut. Well, today they had gotten their cuts and were so stuck-up they pretended not know me - prancing around like they were royalty. (I love them anyway.)

7)I do not like the insulin pens - find them much too bulky - I can squeeze a couple of syringes and two vials of insulin into a very small zippered pouch, and that works fine for me.

8)I have a habit of buying way too many birthday cards - probably have a couple hundred. When someone's day is approaching, I lay some of them out on the floor and spend long moments contemplating which one to give. It is such a hoot to find the absolute perfect one, that I may have bought years ago before I even knew that person.

9)Both of my grannies were first generation immigrants - my mom's mother from Denmark, my father's mother from Norway. There was a bit of competitiveness between them regarding traditions and customs, but they both enriched my life beyond measure.

10)About 10 yewars ago, when I was trying to make a difficult decision, I went camping by myself. I chose a big family type campgrounds where I knew there would be lot of people close by. It was the most frightening night of my lfe. My imagination got away from me and I was certain there would be a big sharp knife slashing through my tent, with some psychotic prison escapee reacy to chop me up.
That night of fear helped to put things in order, and when I left I was thinkng clearly about the situation and very confident about what to do next

Any other weirdos out there? If so 'fess up and consider yourself tagged.
Have a great weekend, everyone.

Five Things................

2008-05-10T20:03:00.002-05:00

I’ve been tagged by BetterCell for the .
"Five Things You Can't Learn From A Book" meme.

I would strongly agree with everything said by those who have already posted - great wisdom and insight. Thank you all. Here are my 5 to add:

1) Complications do not make you a failure. I have dealt with retinopathy, frozen shoulders and a trigger finger. It would be really tempting to blame myself. Yes, I had long periods of time when I didn’t take care of myself. Part of it was lack of the proper tools in the early years; part was my long-standing depression; part was the fact that I had witnessed several relatives die from db and I didn’t think that I had a fighting chance, no matter what. I currently try to keep in mind that all of us living with db face a big job, every day, and we all put forth a noble effort, depending on our circumstances. I am proud of that.

2) It is never too late for improved control. Just start where you are and move forward.

3) If you come to a place where you need oral meds, such as for hypertension, it’s okay. Several people have blogged about being upset when they had to start “yet another” prescription in addition to insulin. Be thankful that there are drugs available to help with a variety of ailments.

4) Question authority - that means doctors, nurses, pharmacists, CDE’s, psychiatrists, psychologists, etc. Just last month my pharmacy switched to a new supplier for synthyroid. When I got home with my prescription, I noticed that the pills were a different color and different shape. I called them and the pharmacist, who I’ve known for years, said, “gosh, Kathy, we dispense a ton of this and you are the only one who asked…….”

5) Laugh when you can.
Cry when you have to.

Happy Mother’s Day!!!

Sussy Epilogue

2008-04-01T20:00:00.008-05:00

A couple of months ago several db bloggers participated in the first certifiably cool and awesome Sussy Circle.

My sussy was Amalas, who sent me some lovely yarn

Here is what I made.

No, it is not a wall hanging. It is a scarf/mini shawl.

Since I only finished it a day ago, it will be new and fresh for next winter. As I carefully folded it to be put away, I thought of all of my db blogging friends, of my love of the craft, and of the many, many days of warmth and sunshine that will come my way before next winter.

Enjoy the season of hope and renewal. Happy Spring.

Meme

2008-03-26T17:36:00.007-05:00

SuperGeorge, also known as "skinny", has tagged me for the Six Word Meme.

I trust life (between the lines).

Since the rules have already been printed a b'zillion times, I'm going to skip them here.

I tag: Molly, Log Cabin Heidi, BetterCell, Lili, Zazzy

Mom (and Me) Update

2008-03-17T17:38:00.002-05:00

Landileigh left a message on my last post wondering how everything was. I guess it's rather rude to describe an upset in one's life and then not keep everyone advised as to how things are going.

My mother made it back to our hometown and was placed in a skilled nursing facility. Three days later we got a call saying that she was retaining a lot of fluid and might have to be rehospitalized - another "wait and see" situation. It resolved with an increase in the diuretic pill. My sister, niece and I went to see her that weekend and I was shocked to see that she was in a wheelchair. I tried hard not to cry. I spoke with the charge nurse and she said "well, most of the residents here are in wheelchairs - we just don't have the time to get them walking".

Can you imagine how hard it was not to bop that woman upside the head? Mom had obviously weakened since she was in the hospital here in Minneapolis. That Monday, when the nursing supervisor was back on duty, I called and told her that we wanted her in physical therapy immediately. She asked if she was able to walk before the crisis and I told her yes, she walked quite well. I guess nobody had documented it and they assumed she couldn't.

So now they have determined that she can transfer to the "intermediate" facility, which are small studio apartments with your own furniture. She will eat all meals in the dining room, but can also have a microwave and little refrigerator in her room. We are planning to do that move weekend after next.

She wants to talk about her funeral. I was willing to do this, but my sister said "don't put her in the grave before she's dead!" and stormed out of the room.
Yup, emotions are running high between all of us. My sisters are twins, 7 years younger than me and we at times don't communicate very well. It takes tact and patience.

I still have the crud, plus a urinary tract infection, so have been on nonstop antibiotics for a month. The doc said the respiratory thing "has a tail on it" and I could expect to be coughing for several weeks. "Ordinary people illness" is double crummy on top of db.

Our branch audit by the New York Stock Exchange was a great success. Now it's just the stock market in general that's not doing so good.

I want to tell you ALL how very touched I was by your comments - wnat a beautifully supportive community. I had a session with the family therapist that I've been seeing since M became ill and told him about the OC and TuDiabetes. He said, "do you mind if I write those websites down? I have several patients that might benefit from something like that."

Of course, I gave him the addresses. Embrace the good and pass it on.

Happy St. Patrick's Day everybody.

The Many Layers of the Black Umbrella

2008-02-27T18:42:00.009-06:00

The last couple of weeks have brought a lot of junk into my life - like a big black umbrella blocking out the sun.

Several days ago my sister phoned me to say that my 80 year old mother was being helicoptered to a major hospital in Minneapolis from her small town in central Minnesota. She has been struggling with both emphysema and heart failure and her condition was serious.

I raced over from work and found her on the cardiac floor, hooked up to tubes and machines but still smiling and saying she was glad to see me. I spent the night in a recliner in her room, getting up every so often to pace the halls because my restless leg syndrome was acting up. The next day the woman who helps her with housekeeping said she'd found 11 days worth of untaken meds shoved in a drawer. The doctors concluded that the episode was brought on by noncompliance with her diuretic, which helps control the buildup of fluid. I asked her about this and she said she was sure she'd taken all of her meds.

They got her through the physical crisis and suggested an evaluation for cognitive function. Even though I knew that she was failing mentally, I heard myself tellng the social worker that I didn't think it was necessary. (Yeah, Kathy, just refuse to face it and maybe it'll go away.)

The day of the evaluation I woke up with a raging sore throat and fever. I went to the Minute Clinic in Target and was given some Zithromax and told that I absolutely could not visit anyone in the hospital until my fever had been gone for 2 days.

As I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I started to feel these great waves of fear and sadness - thinking about her death and also my death (maybe from diabetes) and what lay between. I microwaved a Lean Cuisine but forgot to take any insulin, and later in the day my bg was 470. I corrected, but really didn't care. I was sinking deep into the "life is hard and then gets harder" mindset.

My mom's evaluation determined that she has "moderate dementia" and cannot live alone primarily due to the possibility of medication error. She also will not be driving anymore. My other sister had driven to M's home and found a large array of unpaid bills strewn about, and a frig full of old food. Two more days and her utilities would have been shut off. She had fooled us, always saying everything was "ok".

She transfered to a full care facility in her town this last Mondayand will remain there until an apartment becomes available in the assisited living wing. I did not get to see her because I am still not well. I went to my internist and he said "well, your lungs sound good - I guess you'll just have to wait it out". Last night I was coughing so hard my neighbor above me came down to see what was going on. After I shut the door I started crying, asking why everything has to happen all at once.

Now this afternoon I got an email that I have to be at work tomorrow because my company was visited with a surprise audit from the New York Stock Exchange, something which happens about every 10 years.

I am ready to blow a gasket. I am not good at dealing with multiple stressors. If anyone has any magic tips, do tell.

A Wonderful Sussy Came My Way!

2008-01-29T16:28:00.000-06:00

Last night I came home from work and my sussy had arrived. The box felt very light and made no sound as I shook it. I also did not recognize the sender's name and could make no connection with the return address...................hmmmmmmm......

Of course, I opened it without taking my coat off. I had said my favorite color was vibrant blue and that I collected beads and yarn. I was impressed to open the box and see beautiful blue tissue paper. Inside the tissue was a lovely cloth bag, also in blue, with something soft and squishy in it.

At the ends of the drawstrings which closed the bag were two little blue beads wrapped in wire.

I opened the bag and it contained two skeins of luxurious yarn - Peruvian alpaca/wool by Cascade Yarns and kettle dyed merino yarn by Malabrigo. Mercy - this person must be a crafter herself, for she knows her stuff! (Aplaca is yarn made from llama fur; merino is from a particular kind of sheep, known for its softness.)

The gears in my head were already cranking with ideas for what I would make from it.

After taking off my coat, I folded the bag up neatly. But wait, there was something else in it. Beads. Blue beads. Beautiful blue beads.

>

My sussy is Amalas, over at Plastic Pancreas. We have not met, but I am hoping to have a very interesting and talented new friend. Thank you, Amalas, for the thoughtfully chosen sussy. I will be sure to put up a pic of whatever I decide to make with the yarn.

And super thanks to the soul-sisters,Amylia and Beth for organizing this very fun activity.

A Poorly Timed Vacation

2008-01-12T18:44:00.001-06:00

I had my big annual bloodwork done at the beginning of December. Thankfully,, the numbers were all ok, and, as usual, I had been fretting about it for weeks before.

This was on a Thursday, and I decided that as a little reward, I would take a short "vacation" from diabetes - Friday through Sunday - three days. There would be no logging, no middle of the night testing, and no carb counting/dose calculating. I would of course continue with my insulin but lower my testing from 7 to 4 imes per day. BAD IDEA.....................

A month has now gone by and I am not back on the wagon yet. In fact, this slacking has taken on a momentum of its own and the longer it continues the more effort it will take to reverse it. I know that. Yet I continue.

I am now down to testing 2 times per day - at 5 am and 10 pm. I have not logged in over a month. This is my most major lapse in over 6 years and I feel terrible about it - shameful that I, as an adult, can't make the proper choices to support my health. Why am I acting like a fool? I blame it on holiday stress (well, sister, the holidays are now over), the greyness of winter, db burnout and a deeply set sense of apathy. And perhaps a "I am mad as hell and not gonna take this anymore" mindset. I am acting out my passive-aggressive anger toward diabetes by not acknowledging it as an overriding force in my body.

Sure, there are cycles to the depth of our self-care and coping. Some days are better than others.

Here is my grandmother tree, just standing patiently through the endless seige of grey and cold, trusting that the days will get longer and soon the tiny green buds will appear, ready to begin a new growing cycle.

But it is not in my best interest to wait, to keep thinking that I'll simply wake up one morning and be ready to resume "the grind", as Chrissie calls it.

I received a calendar for Christmas. This is the January page.

When I put the calendar up on New Year's Day, I thought this was a lovely phrase to focus on for the New Year. Yet, "dwell" also suggests to me a sense of being stuck - apathetic, complacent, unwilling to initiate movement. This isn't gonna work in my situation. Sure, I can recognize the possibility that a) I have successfully taken good care of the db for long periods of time and I can do it again; b) there is help available to me if I want it and c) I can shift my focus from deprivation to responsiblity. I can't afford to "dwell" anymore - gotta get going in the right direction.

I don't think db vacations are such a good idea for me. I should have gone and had a massage instead.

I hope everyone's New Year is off to a great start, and may it continue

Mystery Hypo (or Senior Moment).......

2007-12-07T18:26:00.000-06:00

This is one of my many hypo stashes. I use the baby juices because each bottle has 14 gm cho, they taste ok, and they are not something seductive that I would be tempted to binge on. I only use them when I'm starting to get low. If I'm below 50 the plastic cap is hard to open and the inner safefy seal impossible.

Last night I tested at 1:30 am and was at 88 - a very good place to be. Then, two hours later, I woke up and knew I had crashed. Meter read 37. I treated, went back to sleep and woke up feeling a little drained and rebounding at 250.

When I got home this evening, I was startled to open the refrigerator door and see three empty juice bottles on the door shelf. WTF?

Obviously I had consumed them last night and not remembered it. This is sort of freaky.

After all, I remember the hypo. I even documented it on my logsheet.

But I do not recall retrieving the jars from the cupboard. How on earth did I open all three? And why did I put the empty ones in the frig? It is sort of funny, but it also makes me uneasy. I live alone. Have I been doing other things that I have no memory of?

I fret a lot about my db - sometimes over rational things and other times over irrational things. It's hard to know where to put this new little worry monster. Maybe I'll just leave it in the frig with those empty bottles.

Have a good weekend, everybody - colder than blazes here, with 10" of snow. If this is an indication of what winter's going to be like, consider me in hibernation.

Tagged

2007-11-20T18:28:00.000-06:00

I've been tagged by Amylia, Chrissie, Drea and Heidi.

Seven Random Facts About Me:

1) My paternal granny always dreamt about losing her purse (a big old purse containing cloth hankies and horehound lozenges). About five years ago, I also started dreaming about losing my purse. But, I find them!

2) In high school I was treasurer of the Taxidermy Club. Yes, we were pretty bored during those long Minnesota winters. I had to collect the money so the adviser could order the glass eyes for the animals (mostly road kill). It was a very cool club to belong to. No, I'm not kidding.

3) My favorite romantic song is "Tupelo Honey" by Van Morrison.

4) In college I embroidered an elaborate tapestry of Bob Dylan's silhouette. I later found out that my mother had sold it at a garage sale for a dime.

5) I inherited a banjo from my uncle. I took lessons for 5 months. I have since done much better on other instruments.

6) I am attracted to Aires men - always, without fail.

7) My middle name is "Joy". My father always called me "Rose".

If there is anybody else out there who wants to participate, please consider yourself tagged.

Thanks, everybody. I really enjoyed reading all the posts. This was a very fun way to start the holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving.

D Blog Day

2007-11-09T18:18:00.001-06:00

Oh mercy. I was fooling around trying to see how pictures would look for a knitting blog (not a good choice for those with time limitations) and put this one up instead of the one showing my hands at the computer keyboard. I guess I'll leave it, as I expect I have a weekend's worth of blogs to read.

A whole year as fled by since D Blog Day 2006. Not much has changed on the diabetes front for me. Yup, I still have it. Nope, it did not magically disappear. Thankfully, my health remains reasonable after 33 years of navigating the rocky-choppy db waters.

I often feel like I'm a big impostor - that I pretend that living with diabetes is easy and no big deal. I put on my smiley face and go through the motions of living as if nothing were bothering me. Who is asking me to do that? Nobody, really. It is a choice because sometimes the pretending is my only salvation.

I have many Type 1 relatives. One person died earlier
this year of multiple organ failute, and one was recently put on a kidney/pancreas transplant waiting list. This is reality - upfront and personal. The pretending is a necessary break from the choking burden of fear and apprehension.

But, there are other realities to my life besides diabetes.

I left home at 5:50 this morning, and, there it was - that indescribably, pre-sunrise shade of blue that fills the sky this time of year. I wanted to stand on the street and let it soak into my bones The contrast of yellow autumn leaves against that sky was stunning. One of my neighbors was also headed to the bus stop and we walked the last block together, debating whether that lone twinkle above us was Venus or not. Those 10 minutes were not pretend; they were not Pollyanna - they were real, true pleasure. As authentic as it gets. And I was able to accept this as the quintessential warm fuzzy starting my day.

Blogging about db has taught me that we each are as different as we are alike; that there are may ways to tackle a problem; that numbers are only information and don't need to be tizzed over; that transitioning to a pump is not particularly difficult; that challenging emotions don't last forever; and, that change is constant. I've learned that people of all ages have the strength and courage to adapt to new situations, such as this determined mother who is trailblazing new paths for her small children.

Diabetes aside, because I blog I have learned about henna body art, I now know what a curly coated retrievor is ("woof" to Skye), and how smart and perceptive service dogs are ("woof" to Ms. Dixie). I have received personal instructions on how to properly prepare acorn squash, and a kind offer of a bodyguard should I get the urge to scrounge the riverbottom for driftwood.

I don't like living with diabetes. I don't feel it's made me a better person. I continue to work toward acceptance and balance and use my What Helps?
list on days when coping seems impossible.

But, still, I allowed my heart to open when I read about the arrival of Baby L, Pepito, Izzie, Ian and Eleanor, and the forthcoming Baby Bonilla. These dear sweet babies are the fullfilment of the promise - that life is essentialy good, that hope is real, and that we will continue.

Happy D. Blog Day!

Hands

2007-10-04T17:39:00.000-05:00

The
Tu Diabetes Word in Your Hand project struck me with a lot to comtemplate. After all, my hands are very important to me - my handcrafts and music are a mainstay in my life. My practice of tai chi introduced me to a greater awareness of my hands and the way energy moves through the body. And, many years ago, in what seems like another lifetime, I was trained as a massage therapist.

And then, of course, we have multiple contacts with our hands each day as we lance our fingers to get information which is vital to our health.

I spent the first two decades of my life with db paralyzed by fear. I made few decisions, refused to plan for the future and did not participate in basic "life navigating" because I thought I'd soon be dead.

When we sit back in a dark corner with our hand in a fist, we are angry and defensive - prepared to battle imaginary demons. A closed hand represents stagnation and being unreceptive to people, opportunities and kindness.

The simple act of opening our hand indicates that we are ready to receive - warmth, healing, understanding, and support. To walk through our days with hands outstretched means that we trust that the right things will come to us at the right moment, that we can handle whatver the future brings, and that we are ready to grab those fleeting bits of joy that float through our life, one by one.

Let's all put our hands together and give ourselves a big round of applause - for we are capable, determined, intelligent and wise. For we live with diabetes.

More Fame

2007-09-23T16:37:00.000-05:00

A couple of months ago I posted about articles in Diabetes Self-Management by Allison
and Kassie.
Well, a new issue arrived yesterday, and yet another blogger, Michko, had contributed an article - "Plannng Ahead for Sick Days" (page 16).
Check it out. I get a big kick out of seeing someone I know on the printed page. The power of the blogsphere.
Have a good week ahead, everybody.

The Talking Stick

2007-08-28T19:26:00.000-05:00

Last night I had a very fun time in the Tu Diabetes chat room with some delightful people.

We were talking about art and my beadwork and Beth asked if I’d ever done any beading on wood. I said yes, I had made a talking stick.

Several years ago I worked at a center for troubled youth, many of which were Native Americans. We decided to adopt some traditional rituals and use them as tools for healing. One of them was the talking stick.

Any type of group of people can use a talking stick - whether you are discussing a topic, trying to come to a decision, sharing victories and defeats, offering support - the list is endless. The one rule is that the person holding the stick is the only one speaking - no interruptions. When he is finished, he passes it to the next person. It was a great tool for shy people (of which I still am). Somehow, just holding the stick gives one the courage to speak their mind. It was empowering.

I have been blogging for over a year now, and feel that both the Diabetes OC and Tu Diabetes have given me the courage to put my thoughts down on paper. I was really “stopped up” for many years - just kept stuffing things as deep as I could get them. This certainly was not healthy.

Things are different now. I have friends who understand me. I have people across the country (and the world) that I care about. We are bound by the fact that we have diabetes, but also connected in our vision to take care of our health, keep up on new developments, nurture a positive attitude, problem solve, and live a vibrant and fulfilling existence. This has had a big impact on my life, and I say “thank you”. (sniffle, sniffle).

Anyway, about the stick - I love the Mississippi. I could sit on the shore for hours and watch the clouds go by and think of how the settlers came upstream by riverboat and how Minneapolis was once called The Mill City because all the big barges of grain came up the river to be processed. Cool.

The wood for the stick was found along the river’s edge. It had been polished by the current (somewhat like driftwood). I have stopped going down to the spot where the driftwood accumulates because it is isolated and I am no longer young enough to outrun someone with harmful intentions.

But, the wood still reminds me of the grounded stability of the river and the current that keeps moving forward, as it has for centuries.

Life transports us onward, whether we are willing or not. I spent many years paddling upstream. It was exhausting and got me nowhere. By being a part of two blogging communities, I have given myself permission to flow with the bitter and the sweet, and stay upright in the process.

This is good.

A Change in Perspective

2007-08-05T15:55:00.001-05:00

Here is my Grandmother Tree, in her summer finery, overseeing the neighborhood last week.

And, here she is this weekend. Yes, that's a mini donut stand at her base.

My neighborhood has once again been invaded by the Uptown Art Fair, a gathering right outside my window (and extending for several blocks). It takes place the first weekend of August and lasts three days. We have to have our cars moved (mine is 8 blocks away) by Thursday night and I won't retrieve mine until after work tomorrow. People sit on the lawn right outside my window and eat corndogs and yell at their kids. I feel sort of trapped and claustrophobic and can't wait for it to be over. I love to complain about it.

But, as most of you know, we had a tragic event here last week, with the bridge collapsing. I really want to express by deepest thanks to all my online friends
for their messages of concern. I was very moved by the sincerity and compassion.

Yesterday we also had a small party for my mother's 80th birthday. Her health continues to decline and it was a very poignant gathering. She and my youngest niece were looking at photo albums and I was reminded that the wheel of life keeps turning for each of us.

So, upon returning home last night, I began to think that having my tranquility disrupted every summer by the Art Fair really wasn't such a big deal. In fact, it was nothing at all but a celebraton of summer, families, talent, and community festivities. If I tried hard enough, I might even find something to like about it.

So, this morning, the last day, I headed out early and chatted with some of the artists, wish them a good show, flowed with the crowd, and sat on the grass and people-watched.................and, concluded that I would miss it if it didn't take place.

We pick our own battles. And I believe this one has been crossed off my list

2007-07-09T19:10:00.000-05:00

This weekend I went to visit a co-worker who was recovering from knee surgery. He was in the rehab wing of the hospital. We were chatting and looking at cards when a nurse brought his roommate in - a 24 year-old man who'd had a major stroke.
I was very uncomfortable with this, representing so much devastation to such a young person.
Then the nurse came back and said to him, "ok honey, let's check your blood sugar". My friend lowered his voice and said, "he's got real bad diabetes - that's what caused it".
I felt like I was going to burst into tears. Why, when I was having such a good day, did I have to be reminded of the devastation that db can cause? It just wasn't fair.
I calmed down and traveled through the rest of the weekend with the image of that man hanging around the edges of my mind, as I tried to stuff it away in a back file.
This morning on the bus I thought about my What Helps? list, but didn't feel very enthusiastic. One of the items was "be nice to someone". Well, that opportunity probably wasn't gonna happen at work. We are all covering for people who are on vacation and everyone is in a general state of crabbiness.
The day ended and I was browsing through the grocery store. I saw that raspberries were at a low price - 2 6 ounce trays for $4. That's about as cheap as they'll get, so I put two trays in my basket.
As I was leaving te store, a rumpled street person said, "ma'am, can you spare some change?". I told him no, but he might like some raspberries and handed him one of the boxes. He carefully opened it and said "have they been washed?" Well, no, I didn't think they had as I'd just bought them. I said "let's go into Starbucks and get some water". He told me that water cost a quarter and he had already asked them for some.
I went in and got a big glass of water (yes, for a quarter) and we sat down at a wire table and carefully poured it over the berries. I left him seated with a big craggy grin on his face, popping them in his mouth one by one.

I got home with one carton, and that was certainly enough for me.

And, by then, I'd forgotten about the bothersome chatter in my head.

PS - This post was going to be titled, Giving the Raspberries but Blooger wouldn't let me type in a title.

Trigger Finger

2007-06-21T18:44:00.000-05:00

I had a visit to the ortho clinic today. For the last year, I've had a
trigger finger. This is a painful inflammatory condition where the tendons at the base of the finger swell and get caught in a little tunnel of ligament called a "pulley". When you flex and extend the finger, it can get caught in a bent position. This condition is more common in people with hypothyroidism and diabetes (I have both). It also doesn't help that I'm a craftsperson and do a lot of knitting and beadwork.

I had one cortisone shot a year ago, which did nothing. I decided to go back for another before having surgery.

The hand specialist had retired so I saw his PA. He is a big, strapping, football player looking guy. We discussed symptoms and options and he went to get the cortisone.

I decided to test my blood, and was doing so when he came back. Just to be sure he'd read my entire chart, I said "oh, you saw that I have type one diabetes, didn't you?". He replied, "Yes. I have it too - since I was 10".

To my amazement, I blurted out,
"but you don't look diabetic". Where on earth did that come from? How is my head defining how a person with diabetes should look? Why did I say that?

I apologized and we then went on to chat about various aspects of the condition.

He gave me the injection, which felt like hot oil traveling up my finger, and wished me luck.

I've been thinking about this all afternoon and conclude that my image of a pwd goes back to my cousins, and growing up among a number of them whose health was in various states of unraveling. Am I defining myself like that also? It certainly can't contribute to a sense of well-being. I think I better reframe this.

Take a look at the members on Tu Diabetes, A Social Network for People Touched By Diabetes. Look at all the smiling, vibrant faces. Of course, I know that most everyone with the disease goes through struggles and endures great moments of rage, sorrow, and despair, but the joy of life still shines through on these faces. This is what pwds look like. I'll try to keep it in mind.

Happy first day of summer, everyone!

FAME

2007-05-27T20:24:00.000-05:00

Last night I was sorting through my week's mail and saw that the May/June issue of Diabetes Self-Management had arrived. I've gotten this magazine ever since its inception and really like it - lots of information.

On page 39, there was an article on diabetes blogs, written by none other than Allison.

I started reading and soon there was a reference to Super George. Hey, this was getting really exciting. My friend, SuperGeorge, in a national magazine. How cool is that?

There were also great references to Amy, Kerry, Penny and Rachel.

I was so pleased to see this. I quickly scanned the rest of the magazine, and here was an article by Kassie, "Talking to Your Children About Your Diabetes" and George again is on the printed page (page 68).

What can I say - good job everybody. What a nice surprise.

Ungrounded

2007-05-18T18:26:00.000-05:00

I had an appointment this week with the "health psychologist" at a diabetes center here in town. He has T2 and we usually start out the session bantering back and forth about him thinking there's little difference and me thinking there's a major difference between T2 and T1.
I scheduled the appointment because another one of my T1 relatives is seriously ill. Actually, close to death with multiple organ failutre. I told him I felt very
ungrounded. He thought I was referring to "grounding" as the punishment my nephew gets when he uses too many of his cell phone minutes.

I think that in a way, me spacng out is a protective mechanism - if I'm in lala land, I don't have to be so close to the pain, the loss and the fear that I'll be next. However, being a fuzzball does not bode well for one's concentration and focus - the stuff that I need to perform my job, pay my bills, and managed my db.

One of the ways I try to deal with ungroundedness is to be outside as much as possible. And, without 4 feet of snow on the ground, it is much simpler. The above is a picture of the path I take each morning when I walk to the bus. It is wonderfaul - very peaceful at 6 a.m., with a few of the neighbor dogs who stop to say hi while on their walks. The trees and grass are calming and in a sense, protective. Nature's healing at its best.

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And this, is my Grandmother Tree. Can you see her, standing with arms outstretched?
As I walk, I see her up ahead, those loving arms ready to enfold me. I always feel such a stunning sense of belonging and connectedness when I look at her. She is a great reminder that I have a purpose for being, even with diabetes.

My ideal home would be a rustic cabin on a lake in the northern Minnesota pine forest, where I would roam in the woods daily.

But, in the meantime, the beauty right outside my door abounds. I am thankful.

This weekend, spend some time outdoors, wherever that might be, and return home with a renewed sense of wellness.

Unhappy Today

2007-05-01T18:17:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I had my AlC appointment, one that I'd moved out a few weeks because I knew my numbers had been high.

I blamed this on my mother being seriously ill since November, resulting in a lot of stress and poor eating patterns (oh yeah, we can throw in Xmas, Valentine's Day and Easter too).

I had a very sleepless night and thought that it would be nice if the clinic went back to their old ways of mailing you the results vs. getting them while you're there. That way I wouldn't have to explain myself to the doc.

Mean nurse comes in and puts the bp cuff on the same arm they'd drawn 5 tubes of blood out of. I suggest using the other arm, and she's already inflating it. A big arc of blood shoots out, onto the floor, the desk, my t-shirt and hair.

Doc comes in and asks what the hell happened and I started sobbing - since I take brain meds, I rarely cry, and this startled me. After things were cleaned up, he asks how I am and I start crying again, saying my mother's been sick and I'm having a hard time dealing with it-
and oh, by the way, my sugars have been very high.

He swings the computer screen around and says, "yes, you're AlC is higher than last time - it's up to 7.5".

7.5 - WTF - I was expecting at least 9%. This must be a lab error - wrong patient, wrong day, something is screwed up.

"No, Kathy - that's you on the screen. Now let's just take a look at your records. Hmmmmm. The numbers do seem pretty high at times."

He asks if I have any other issues to address, and leaves. I drift out, feeling like diabetes is always trying to play games - show me that I'm not as smart as I think I am.......I hate it. This was just as bad as someone who expects a lower readng and it comes back high. The unexpected. Unpredictable. Major suckage.

I then go back to the counter and ask to speak to the doc again.

"Maybe I have anemia."
"No, Kathy, you don't have anemia. We did a full blood count."
"Maybe I have some other problem with my red blood cells - something life-threatening."
"That's highly unlikely."

Mean nurse, who is leafing through a Crate & Barrel catalog, looks at me like I'm a crazywoman. At that point, I sure felt like it.

I have the right to expect some consistency - this is the first A1C that I've been way off at guessing, and I feel stupid and inadequate. Diabetes does not have a right to do this to me. That big old troll needs to stay under the bridge.

For Vivian........

2007-04-23T18:25:00.001-05:00

Oh my, did the post over at Aiming For Grace get me thinking about classic rock of 30+ years ago. Great times, Great music.

This one is for Vivian, who I fear was a wee tyke when the original hit the charts, but who I also know trusts in the healing power of music.

And, with a special thanks to George, who got me so curious about YouTube that I had to dive in myself.

National Poetry Month

2007-04-11T17:36:00.001-05:00

It's about 30 degrees here today, with bits of snow dancing in the air. I couldn't resist the "half-off" bin of Easter treats at the grocery store this afternoon, and bought a hollow chocolate bunny, ate just the ears, and gave the rest to my neighbor. Pleasantly satisfied, with just the ears...............

TerriLynn,Julia and Zazzy have all mentioned that April is National Poetry Month.

In honor of living fully in the present moment, and the promise of good things yet to come, here is my all-time favorite poem.

So Much Happiness
........by Naomi Shihab Nye

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
A wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
Something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
And disappears when it want to.
You are happy either way.

Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful treehouse
And now live over a quarry of noise and dust
Cannot make you unhappy.

Everything has a life of its own.
It too could wake up filled with possiblities
Of coffeecake and ripe peaches,
And love even the floor which needs to be swept,
And soiled linens and scratched records.

Since there is no place large enough
To contain so much happiness,
You shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
Into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
For the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
And in that way, be known.

Five Questions

2007-04-07T16:16:00.000-05:00

These questions were graciously provided by my neighbor up the interstate and supermom extraordinaire, Milemaster Sarah.

1.What purpose does blogging serve in your life?
Blogging validates all of the feelings I have about diabetes - the fear, anger, frustration as well as the celebratory emotions of pride, accomplishment, and victory. I am amazed at the depth of closeness I feel to people that I haven't met in person. It is comforting and my sense of isolation has vanished.
Also, I hadn't done much in the realm of self-expression except journal writing, and now I have joined a story telling group and a poetry group.

2.Choose one tree in your past that has touched your life and explain to us why.
It is huge maple tree that I have looked at every morning for the last 20 years as I walk to the bus stop. She affirms the cycle of life with her snow covered branches, with the spring buds that are just now beginning to show, with the bountiful green leaves that provide shade all through the summer, and the crimson colors that signal a time of approaching rest. When I look at her at the top of the hill, her branches look like outstretched arms, like a loving Grandmother who tells me that I matter, that I have a right to be here, and that I am safe.

3. What food is most akin to you? Explain why.
The first thing that came to mind was beef stew with baby carrots and new potatoes. Simple, nourishing, and sturdy. ............hmmm.............maybe I said that because that's what I'm hungry for right now.

4. If you had the power to heal, only yourself, and only one cndition, what would it be, and why?
Yes, it would be the db, because of its all-encompassing effect on daily living and its system-wide effects on the body.

5. What is your most redeeming character trait? Your least? and Your Favorite?
Most redeeming - my sense of empathy and compassion for others; least - my compulsive perfectionism; favorite - my delight and joy in the simple things.

These were great questions, Sarah. Thank you.

33 Years of Adjusting the Focus

2007-03-20T18:00:00.000-05:00

The end of this month will mark my 33rd year with diabetes. Back in those early days, I didn't even consider that I'd make it to 20 years, which seemed to be the cutoff for many of my T1 relatives.

Yet here I am - still kickin', despite long periods of neglect. I have gratitude that I came to my senses while I still had a core of health to nuture. Seems somewhat miraculous, No?

A couple of years ago I won a great digital camera in an office contest. Tinkering with all of the settings makes me think of living with db - all the tiny little adjustments that need to be made to result in a good photo - light, shadow, focus - more of this, less of that. Just when I think I've got it down, I delve further into the instruction manual and discover something else to try.

I love the challenge of seeing how much detail I can capture with the macro mode, yet it prevents me from considering the bigger panorama. The details of db make it easy to forget that I am greater than the condition. I am a friend, neighbor, co-worker, daughter, sister, auntie, musician, craftsperson and OC member.

When I look at the top picture of the syringe, I see the endless drudgery it represents, along with the suffocting emotions of anger, shame and fear. But, if I move back a couple of inches, I see the lovely piece of embroidery that my Norwegian granny taught me to do.

Another step back and I see the candles I light that calm my mind and connect me to a larger sense of being.

We navigate the path of human-ness together. And, the journey is the reward. May everyone make wise choices and travel well.

Sometimes We Cry

2007-03-10T20:06:00.001-06:00

This is for Penny and all the rest of us..................

Seven

2007-03-04T17:08:00.000-06:00

Ok, Chrissie, I read your post this morning and had all day to think about it!

Seven Things to Do Before I Die
1. Stop worrying.
2. Live fully in the present moment.
3. Mend a fragmented friendship with H.
4. Talk to my family openly about diabetes
5. Find a doctor who I can be 100% honest with (right now I'm at about 90%).
6. Bike theGrand Rounds Scenic Byway in one day.
7. To walk around all three Minneapolis inner city lakes in one day.

Seven Things I Cannot Do
1. Stop worrying.
2. Say "no" to people at work who ask me for favors.
3. Stop craving chocolate
4. Stop hording yarn and beads.
5. Get my passion flower vine to bloom indoors.
6. Stand on my head.
7. Keep a tidy home.

Seven Things I Find Attractive in Others
1. Honesty
2. Integrity
3. A curiosity to try new things.
4. A fondness for Bob Dylan.
5. Respect for self and others.
6. Warmth.
7. Sense of humor.

Seven Things I've Been Known to Say
l. That number can't be right - it must be a lab error.
2. Oh, my goodness!
3. Oh, my stars in heaven!
4. Oh, for pity damn sake!
5. No, Denise, I'm not getting on the scale today. (Denise is the nurse at my clinic.)
6. It is what it is.
7. You're kidding.

Seven Books I Love
Fiction
1. The Secret Life of Bees
2. Prodigal Summer
3. Daughter of Fortune and Portrait in Sepia
4. Angela's Ashes, 'Tis, and Teacher Man
5. She's Come Undone
6. The Master Butcher's Singing Club
7. Running with Scissors
NonFiction
1. Life without Ed
2. Psyching Out Diabetes
3. Chronicles, Vol I
4. Undaunted Courage
5. Healing Into Life and Death
6. Dark Night of the Soul
7. The Empty Mirror

Seven Movies I Recommend
1. The Goodbye Girl
2. The Big Chill
3. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
4. Babbete's Feast
5. Tortilla Soup
6. Legends of the Fall
7. The Last Waltz

I tag everyone else who wants to participate. And, if you're a lurker, this would be a good way to dip your toe in the water and start blogging!

Splat.............

2007-03-01T18:20:00.000-06:00

OK, so we've had some snow. The second round came today - about 9" in my neighborhood with as much as aanother 6-8 to go. Whopee.

The photo below is a snowbank I attempted to cross on my way home from work today. Since the temperature is pretty mild, I was not bundled up and had a little more agility in my step. I was carrying my purse, my TlDM enormous tote bag, two sacks of groceries, plus balancing an umbrella as the snow was heavy. I did not want to walk all the way to the end of the block where a tiny pedestrian path had been gouged, so thought I could just scale up the bank. I fell, fortunately forward, face down, splayed out like a scarecrow. First thought: OMG I hope nothing's broken. Second thought: Please don't let anyone I know drive by. Third thought: Did all those expensive tangerines stay in the bag? I really don't feel like pawing through the snow looking for them

All ok. Winter in Minnesota.

Snow Day Project

2007-02-25T17:11:00.000-06:00

We had our turn with the cold weather, and now we've got the snow. About a foot. Lovely.

People are just starting to shovel their sidewalks and many of the cars parked on the street are now enclosed in a big lip of snow that the plow left. Minnesota at its best.

I settled in and finished a lingering project - a beaded vessel. It is about 4' tall and each small seed bead is indivually stitched. Not of much use, but pleasant to contemplate once finished.

Sometimes it's hard for me to be alone with a long stretch of time in front of me - I start thinking about lingering problems, like diabetes; existing problems, like my mother who needs to transition to assisted living; and imagined problems, like future complications. Hobbies help. They help a lot. And, so does knowing that at present, right now, everything is just fine.

Hard to believe February is nearly over. Have a good week ahead.

Subzero Temps., Hypoglycemia, and the F Word

2007-02-09T17:28:00.000-06:00

This past Tuesday was a grizzly cold day. I woke at 5 a.m. to the radio saying, "It's 10 below in the Twin Cities this morning, and the windchill is minus 35". I have been taking the bus to work for many years and know what to wear for the 7 block walk and the wait on the streetcorner - long underwear, down vest under my coat, assorted layers of mittens, hats and scarves. When it comes to dressing properly, I epitomize common sense (and look like a lumbering polar bear).

Just before lunchtime, an announcement was made on the PA - "L is going to make a Ho Fan (the nearby Chinese takeout) run - if anyone wants the lo mein special, let her know". I love having lunch personally delivered to my desk and immediately placed my order. Ho Fan's lo mein is a solid glob of noodles and soy sauce, with perhaps a half ounce of chicken and sprinkle of green onions. It's not within the realm of "moderate" as far as carbs go. My usual insulin dose to cover lunch is 3 units. For the lo mein, I decided to take 9.

That afternoon, as I was getting ready to leave, I tested at 115 - a perfect value for going home. That is, a perfect value if I'd had only 3 units for lunch. I still had at least 1-2 units on board. I'm pretty sensitive, and at that time of day one unit can lower me by about 80 points. I forgot.

I rode home, got off the bus, and had traveled no more than a block when I got the sensation of the sidewalk moving under me, like on a treadmill. My clearcut signal. I forgot. I kept on walking, and within just a few minutes I was really headed south - still four blocks away from my condo building and getting colder by the minute. I ducked into the security entrance of another building and decided to test (I should have immediately crammed some tabs, but I forgot.)
Take my meter out and it feels cold. Strips don't work when they're cold, but I forgot. Tried to lance my finger, but it was too cold, and no blood came out. Stood there, my mind totally blank, not having a clue what to do next. (Better put mittens back on).

In an agonizing step by step effort, I made it to my building. I forgot how to get my key ih the door and one of my neighbors helped me.

Rather than immediately eating, I decided to test with my nice warm at-home meter - 32. That seemed absurdly low so I searched for my spare meter to confirm, but the battery was dead. Still no eating. Eventually I got out a Juicy Juice box, but could not get the tiny straw in the teeny hole. Then thought of the maple syrup that came in the Xmas breakfast gift box. I opened the cute little jug and had several big swigs - in fact most of it. 2 hours later I was at 420, but, safe at home in my flannel pj's.

One act of forgetting the "insulin on board" concept caused me to go hypo which caused me to forget a lot of other things. People hvae done a lot of recent posting about hypos, and I agree that many times they come out of nowhere, and that's where the frustration lies. Yet, this one could have been prevented, so I'm not in such a tizzy. I'll just try to remember next time.

Have a good weekend everybody.

Osteoporosis and the Flying Nun

2007-01-27T17:44:00.000-06:00

Many years ago Sally Field starred in a cute little show called "The Flying Nun". Her nun's headiece had these extensions that looked like wings and she'd take off on the updrafts at unexpected moments.
This past week, during the 6 p.m. news, she was on a couple of times advertising a drug called Boniva, used to treat osteoporisis in post-menopausal women.
The commercial starts off with Sally lamenting about a friend who has to set aside time "once a week" to take her op pill, when Boniva only needs to be taken once a month. The first time I saw this, I was livid, thinking about how would these people cope with diabetes, which needs attention throughout each day - and here she is (or rather the script writers) attempting to appeal to consumers
with "once a month" versus "once a week". Give me a break.
This morning when I got up I was going to write a post about how once again we have evidence that those on the outside "just don't get it" blah blah blah. But instead, my heart suddenly started to swell with immense pride. Pride for all of us, - that we, in a noble, effective manner deal with the "daily grind" (as Chrissie puts it) of diabetes self-care. That, in itself, is a soaring victory.
I left to go shopping and my neighbor across the street said, "Hi Kathy, you look like you day's off to a good start". And it was, even when the cash machine ate my card.
Look for the good - it's out there.

"Please wait. This may take several minutes."

2007-01-13T17:02:00.000-06:00

Well, I appear to have finally successfully installed my highspeed internet service. The man at the mall who sold it to me said it would take 20 minutes to accomplish - for me it took 3 days. Yikes. But, I'm looking forward to hearing the music and seeing the videos that some of you use to embellish your posts.

Thanks to all of you who sent good wishes on behalf of my mother. Please know that your comments truly made a difference in helping me stay calm. She had been home for a week and doing relatively well - getting back into her routine and using some of the services avalable to the elderly in my home town. On Monday I was looking through my emails at work and saw one from my sister that said "Mom's on her way to the hospital again." I thought it was in my deleted items folder, but, it was current. Her 5th visit, and the buffoons in my hometown have sent her to a different metro hospitals each time.

They decided to do an interventional radiology procedure, threading a catheter up through her leg all the way into her head and injecting a compound that would seal off the mail vessel to the side of her nose that was bleeding. There was a 5% risk of stroke and 5% risk of blindness, but she agreed. So off I went to a huge surgical waiting area where there seemed to be a lot of drama going on. I noticed a frail elderly lady in a corner, sobbing into her hankerchief. I went over and asked if I could help. She said her husband was having emergency bypass and that her son was flying in from out of town and wouldn't be there for several hours. She was very frightened and confused about what to do with the pager she'd been given. It was heartbreaking, but I stayed with her until my pager went off and got the report that M's procedure had gone well and she would be sedated for several hours. I then returned to see if Helen needed anything more. She was a lot calmer and wanted to pay me for my help. Of course, I didn't take the money but did accept a tentative invitation for dinner once the Mr. was recovered.

So, my mother went home on Thursday and we are once again keeping our fingers crossed.

I am trying to put this all in perspective. We have Monday off for MLK day and someone at work said "well, Kathy, got big plans for the long weekend"? I felt like saying "don't you remember my mother is ill - how can I have plans for the weekend when the phone could ring any minute with bad news"? I recently saw an article on a mental health website on being "Addicted to Drama" - people who are so used to living on the edge that they are uncomfortable when things settle down. Maybe that's part of my problem - lookng at this as a potential life or death situation when it's actually just a natural part of the cycle of things - people get old and health deteriorates.

I got home that day and felt a deep sense of peace, until talking to one of my sisters who said that if "anything happened" as a result of the procedure, it would be all my fault - she had not agreed to it, thinking the risk was too big.
The next day, however, she'd settled down and seemed to have forgiven me.

Yesterday, in the evening, I realized that I'd forgotten to take my handful of oral meds that morning. I felt ok, my bp was 128/71, so it probably wasn't an end of the word situation in this case either.

So, on it goes. I'm hoping for some nice, uneventful days ahead.

Waste Deep

2006-12-27T18:00:00.000-06:00

My Christmas was very strange and chaotic - my mother is in the hospital.
A week ago Friday, I got a call that she was headed to Minneapolis (about 60 miles from her home) via ambulance. I immediately concluded that if it were a stroke or heart attack, they would send her by helicopter.

I raced over to the ER and was relieved to find that it was an uncontrolled nosebleed, and she was feisty as ever with the staff. They packed it and off we went to spend the night at my place. I noticed her breathing was a bit labored, but, she is 79 years old. I am not a tidy housekeeper and she immediately asked me where the dustcloths were.

She went back home and two days later was enroute again. This time they admitted her and said her "lungs looked funny". She was diagnosed with moderate emphysema and sent home with an inhaler, being told she could resume her normal activities. I was so relieved. We even decided to go ahead with our Christmas plans.

Last Friday, another call, on her way again. They said they could go in surgically and cauterize the offending vessel, but it was considered major surgery and not something they like to do. On Saturday, she was walking and became extremely short of breath, and and MRI revealed she has a blood clot in her lung - go figure, blood clotting in her lung and gushing from her nostrils.

They are giving her strong blood thinners for the clot, and right now, I don't have a clue what the ENT is planning because he won't call me back.

She is talking about going into assisted living, because she doesn't want to be alone with so much uncertainty. This is something we've discussed "around the edges" but never in detail. My sisters are freaking out. One feels we should take it "one step at a time", while the other is wondering where a copy of the will is.

I came home tonight and there was a message on my machine that I was afraid to play. My heart was racing and it was only FedEx, saying they'd left a package in the foyer - a gift box of nothing I care to eat - pancake mix, heavily sweetened blueberry syrup, vacuum sealed bacon with 1000 mg of sodium per two slices. I did, however, like the basket itself.

My blood sugar was over 350 twice today, but I fortunately chose not to stop at the grocery store after work because I knew I'd head home with Doritos, peanut butter, and Ding Dongs.

One thing that I have learned from similar crises is that if we just step back, a tiny bit, there is an underlying sequence to things - the right friend calls at the right time, help is offered when needed, and eventually, the dust will settle. I just don't like the wait.

I am also glad that I have "stress plan" for my blood pressure that I had discussed with my primary a couple of years ago. He agreed that if I tested it, not guessed, and if was in a certain range, I could take another dose of beta blocker. I took it a couple of times today and it was not off target - a relief.

I know I have to let go of the stress, and the outcome, but it's a big task.

Christmas Song Tag

2006-12-20T15:59:00.000-06:00

I've been swamped at work and my home pc is not working, so it appears that I've missed a lot of happenings in the OC.
I have been tagged by Super George and these are my favorite Christmas song, among others:

1) Oh Come All Ye Faithful (by the Morman Tabernacle Choir)
2)Santa Claus is Coming to Town (by Bruce Springsteen)
3)I'll Be Home for Christmas (as done by Elvis)
4)Silver Bells (the first "grown up" Xmas song we got to do in gradeschool)
5)The Chipmunk Song (by the Chipmunks)

Me First!!!!!

2006-12-08T17:23:00.000-06:00

I am 99% sure of the simple truth that if you don't take care of your diabetes, it's going to come crashing to the front of the line, screaming, "me first".
So, when I make a bunch of dumb-ass decisions that gain their own momentum, what am I thinking? That things have magically changed? (Guess not).

I have been very very high for two days, beginning yesterday with the birthday bagels a co-worker brought in. I'd already eaten my standard breakfast (brown rice and vegetables), but had an entire giant bagel with strawberry cream cheese. Then we had a staff lunch of lasagna and garlic bread, followed by a "few" Christmas cookies and later in the afternoon, some caramel corn somebody'd left in the lunch room. I was chasing the highs all day with Humalog but just kept eating. Then last night had to get up every two hours to be sure I wasn't crashing.

Woke this morning still high, probably from rebound. Then more treats at the office and off I was, soaring, and feeling absolutely awful. I had two completely unproductive days at work (we are very busy at year-end) and now am behind and will have to play catch-up next week.

So here I sit, Friday evening, with a ton of things that I'd intended to do but don't have the energy to - start Xmas cards, inventory my prescriptions and call in renewals, work on the sweater I'm knitting as a gift, cleaning, laundry, and watching part of the "Six Feet Under" third season that I got from the library. Instead, I'll lay around, go to bed early, and once again be up a few times to check for lows.

My Saturday will start poorly from lack of sleep and the general imbalance my body's been through. Seems like as I've gotten older, I don't recover as fast from the highs - the effects linger for several days.

WHY do I do this? I am putting this sequence of events in writing so it will be imprinted on my brain - there are consequences for every action that I choose and the
I can't believe I ate the whole thing scenario led to two completely ruined days and will spill over into the weekend.

You'd think I'd get it by now. Does anybody out there have problems with binging. If so, how do you stop it before it takes on a life of its own? If I'd stopped at the bagel yesterday, I could have dealt with it and by early evening would have been back on track.

Fortunately, this doesn't happen often, and, tomorrow's a new day with hopefully, a better outcome.

Hope you all are enjoying the pleasures of the season.

She's Here!!

2006-11-28T18:07:00.000-06:00

Hey all - that awe-inspiring Chrissie has put up her very first post. How cool is that?

Our Essential Wholeness - The Silent Victory

2006-11-22T17:05:00.000-06:00

It's 60 degrees here today in Minnesota, with more warm weather in store for tomorrow - no blizzards, no freezing rain, no single digit windchills. Very nice.

I'm staying in town for the holiday. My family is gathering at my sister's in northern Minnesota, and my restless leg syndrome is on the rampage and I can only sit for 20 minutes at a time, and a three hour car trip is not an option.

So, I'm helping deliver Meals on Wheels, a program that provides hot meals to people who are housebound. Since it's a special day, the volunteers are allowed to take extra time and spend a few minutes visiting. In the evening I'll go to my friend E's, for an enormous potluck with about 40 people meandering through (there is bound to be at least one unsavory green bean casserole).

I often find myself using the term "essential wholeness" and have been contemplating it all day. I think it's the first thing I think of at Thanksgiving.

Our essential wholeness is that part of us that always remains - the core of our soul - that which nothing, not even diabetes, can destroy. Nor can it be depleted by difficult emotions such as fear, shame and anger (that often come along with us for the ride.)

It surfaces in the tiniest acts of faith and kindness - faith that each of our lives has a purpose and will make a difference to our friends, family, co-workers and woman behind us at the grocery store with a screaming toddler in tow.

It is nurtured by looking for beauty in the mundane. On my morning walk to the bus stop, there is a huge old oak tree at the top of the hill. This morning, with bare branches, it looked like a loving grandmother with her arms outstretched, ready to give me a big hug. (And now I'm crying, thinking of my departed grandmas and their big holiday tables, with the chairs that are now emptied and replaced in the cycle of life).

And, it grows to full bloom when we let other people do something nice for us and then pass it on.

Tomorrow, Thanksgiving, be extra kind to someone - including yourself, and then, build on that victory.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

-Kathy

D Blog Day (Chaotic Ramblings)

2006-11-09T17:43:00.000-06:00

I'd like to thank Sandra Miller for pointing out that today is D Blog Day. I had no idea, but, heck, until 6 months ago I did not know what a blog was either.

To preface this, I will say that I have not yet read anybody's posts today - it was slow at work and really hard to keep my paws off the Web - and I'm sure there will be some overlap. Second, I am not going to censor any of my thoughts. Most of the time I try to focus on being optimistic and positive, but tonight, anything that comes flying out of my fingers will stay.

I hate living with diabetes. And my friend J hates living with metastatic breast cancer. And my co-worker D hates living with rheumatoid arthritis. And my departed brother D hated living with AIDS.

My two distinct memories of my diagnosis (1974) were: 1) my hospital bed was right outside the nurse's station and they were having donuts and coffee late in the evening. One said to the other "Did you get bed 2's test tape (a dip strip used to measure sugar in uring)" and she replied, "Oh gawd, is she one too? These diabetics are more trouble than they're worth". 2) When I got home from the hospital, I turned on my favorite television show, Marcus Welby, M.D. - about this kind, fatherly GP and his handsome, hunky associate. It started out showing a girl eating ice cream and she immediately went into a diabetic coma. The next week she was suddenly blind due to retinal hemorrhaging - obviously caused by the dietary indiscretion.. But, Dr. Welby contacted a colleague who was involved in a new, experimental procedure - a vitrectomy and said it coule probably give her some vision back. "Not reading vision", he cautioned. I felt that cold chill of fear wrap around me, and have felt it many times since. Oh, incidently, I have hadtwo vitrectomys and I can read just fine. Ahem.

Diabetes sometimes makes me feel like a freak. After my father's funeral in 1986, we were having a gathering in the church reception hall and offering refreshments. A big tray of cake was being passed down the table and when it got to me, a woman on the other side of the room stood up and screamed , "Don't let her have any - she's diabetic!". Dead silence ensued and the flush rose up into my face. I hate the way that woman made me feel.

The burden and struggles of diabetes wax and wane, just like anything else bothersome in life. I frequently feel like I'm that mythical character that pushes the boulder up the hill, only to have it roll back down to the starting place. Mary Tyler Moore once described the effects of diabetes like "termites" - they are doing slow, consistent damage to the innards of the house while everything looks fine on the outside.

I have had DB for nearly 3/4 or my life. It is a part of me, a companion, that sometimes quietly walks beside me, and other times is a hissy-fit, tantrum-throwing brat that demands attentionat the most inconvenient times. And occasionally it is a fire-breathing demon that threatens to rob every last ounce of strength from me.

Living with DB reminds me of the words of this Motown classic -

So take a good look at my face
You'll see my smile looks out of place
If you look closer, it's easy to trace
The tracks of my tears..........

Oh, baby, I suddenly want to put on Aretha and find a dancing partner!

Tagged

2006-11-03T18:27:00.000-06:00

Perfect timing - I had nothing to write about and now I've been tagged.

Five little known facts about me:

1. I play conga drums in an Afro/Caribbean percussion ensemble. People are
usually surprised because I am conservative, quiet, and could easily fade
into any midwestern crowd. It is a deep pleasure and we perform at
neighborhood festivals, Earth Day, birthday parties and such.

2. The only type of car I've ever owned has been used Honda Civics. They
all had names - Agnes, Cindy, Ignatius, Phoebe and Pablo. Both Ignatius
and Cindy were stolen, off the street, in broad daylight.

3. I once did a summer internship at a school for troubled youth, and
participated in several Native American sweatlodges. It was during the time
when my sugar was always high so I dd not have to worry about having
a hypo and toppling over onto hot rocks. (I would probably not participate
now, and that's okay.)

4. My favorite thing to do when I'm bored is watch old reruns of the tv
series "Kung Fu" - yeah, I know that many of you were not even born when
it was on, and would have no idea who grasshopper was, but I
love it. I have my private collection of all three years.

5. ......................and.....I still sometimes inject through clothing.
Really easy to just zip it through the skirt under my desk.

This was fun. If interested, I tag

MileMaster Sarah
Vic,aka cHoCo @ My.Diabetic.Life
Jane@ It's My Life, People
Heidi@The D Lon Cabin
Robert @ S.I.C.K.I.E.S

Fact #6 - I did not "do" links until I started blogging.

PS. If anyone knows why my alternate sentences have short margins, let me know before I go nuts.

Right Now

2006-10-27T18:31:00.000-05:00

I just got home from having a meal with my nephew, L, who is a sophomore at the U of Minnesota. He grew up 300 miles from here, so it’s nice to have him nearby.

I remember distinctly the day he was born, 20 years ago. I had had db for 12, and wasn’t sure if I’d make it much further. Back then, it didn’t seem like people lived much past the 20 year mark, and none of my cousins (my only reference point) had. I held him and cried, thinking that I wouldn’t see him finish elementary school.

Living for one’s death is very unproductive and sad and even possibly a convenient excuse, at times. I was always on the outside, looking through the glass at those people who enjoyed the gift of health. I wasted a lot of years paralyzed by fear of complications. It’s very easy to get angry, but no one was to blame - not me, not diabetes, not the people around me who didn’t know how to lift my outlook.

Yet, here I was, this afternoon - waiting in front of Applebee‘s, among the diverse college crowd, seeing him saunter down the street on this beautiful fall day - incredibly smart, kind, and handsome. (The baseball cap on backwards is another issue.) I feel like I held back from getting to know him because I was “on the way out”.

But, I’ve quickly made up for it. Sure, my life may be shortened, even by something other than diabetes, but the”here and now” is full of lots of pleasures, big and small. Many of the members of the OC are living vibrantly, embracing life, and pursuing dreams and I love to read about the victories.

I hugged him goodbye and a piece of paper fell out of his hand. I asked him what it was and he replied, “oh, one of the waitresses gave me her phone number” as he carefully folded it and placed it in his backpack. Is that what girls do now?

Have a good weekend everybody. Seize the day!

Notorious

2006-10-17T17:50:00.000-05:00

A couple of years ago, I was in my psychiatrist's office for my brain-med appointment. I told him I'd just come from the ortho clinic downstairs and was told that my broken ankle was healing well because I was doing everything I was supposed to - rest, ice and elevation. Dr. Shrink replied, "well, that's good - diabetics are notorious for not taking care of themselves". I then had a small meltdown, wailing about how people don't understand the unending daily challenges we face. When I read the clinic notes a few days later, Dr. Shrink had written, "patient had an unprovoked episode of significant rage". Fortunately, we have since discussed this a couple of times and I think Dr. S. has learned a great deal about living with db.

I was reminded of this today when I was on theTake Control of Your Diabetes site. TCOYD was started by Dr. Steve Edelman, a California endocrinologist who has been type 1 for more than 30 years. Take a look at his "Making the Connection" article. Paragraph 3, describing how a resident physician generalized that the diabetic patient was "noncompliant" is enough to make me go and pound someone's head. Also see the last paragraph, and I think you'll know that this guy gets it.

Walking the Walk

2006-10-09T17:55:00.000-05:00

I keep a gratitude journal. I meditate on the beauty of life. I read motivational quotes every morning. And I'm very proud of the way I've handled some past health challenges, emerging with my essential wholeness intact. But it's such a fragile balancing act - you could knock me off the tighrope with a feather.

My mother, who is 80 years old and lives in a small prairie town 100 miles1 west of here, chats with me every Thursday morning. When she calls at an unscheduled time, I know that something's up.

She phoned early Saturday morning and told me that one of my relatives, also type 1, had had a fatal stroke. My paternal grandmother had 12 brothers and sisters, and each of them had several children. Now the generation of the grandkid's of the 12 has been afflicted with over 30 type 1's, most of them diagnosed at age 9-13. A few are deceased, a few more dealing with serious complications, and the rest of us circling the wagons with the "it's not gonna happen to me" attitude.

Sure, I'm glad that my retinopathy was successfully treated. I'm also glad that my kidney function returned to normal after starting on Avapro. But why am I the lucky one? I was immersed in self-destructive chaos for 20+ years and statistically I should not have made it this far unscathed. What gives? I am feeling guilty that it wasn't me. I am fearful that I will be next(I am approaching the top of the list of those having db the longest.)

I tried to ignore the news all weekend and tonight it got to me, big time. It's cold here today in Minnesota and we may have some snow by mid-week. I don't like the approaching darkness and the time of year when you can't easily busy yourself and run away from difficult emotions.

The person who died did not take care of himself (neither did I). He had already been db for nearly 30 years when the DCCT results were published. I know he had a meter but I think considered the test strips expensive. And I know he did not deserve this. No one does.

I feel that I am deficient in personal integrity. I can talk the talk and even (for a few seconds) convince myself that I value the developments over the years and the access I have to excellent medical care. I can strut around, full of self-pride because I consider myself to have a "good attitude" about living well with chronic illness. But after talking to my mother on Saturday morning, I felt like ramming my fist through a plate glass window, and will probably be crying into the night.

Yet tomorrow I'll get up and go to work, and know that some delightful, unexpected twist in the road will put me back on track. Those are my deepest pleasures. What one waits for, will come.

Meme

2006-09-29T17:21:00.000-05:00

This meme has been winding its way through the OC for the last couple of days. It will be fun to see if we can get a big participation.

1. Do you still have tonsils?
Yes - I was of the generation where it was fashionable to have them yanked
out.

2. Would you bungee jump?
Maybe, but not until I've lost a bunch of weight so I could be sure the cord
would not break.

3. If you could do anything in the world for a living, what would you do?
Landscape architect.

4. How many tattoos do you have?
One, a purple iris on my belly.

5. Your favorite fictional animal?
Dumbo.

6. One person that never fails to make you laugh?
My niece Emily.

7. Do you consider yourself organized?
Yes, very much so for diabetes logging, health records, prescription
renewals. No, not at all for the other areas of my life.

8. Any addictions?
Substances: milk chocolate, Diet Pepsi, Dairy Queen onion rings
Activities: knitting and beadwork
Authors: anything by Joyce Carol Oates

9 From what news source do you receive the bulk of your news?
My fellow commuters at the bus stop.

10. Would you rather go to a carnival or circus?
Carnival - it's much more interactive and I love the lights after dark.

11. When you were twelve years old, what did you want to be when you
grew up?
A nurse.

12. Best movie you've seen this year?
"Junebug"

13. Favorite alcoholic drink.
champagne cocktail (I have one about every five years)

14. What is the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?
Plug in my electric hair rollers.

15. Siblings?
One older brother and two younger sisters (that are twins to each other).

16. What is the best thing about your job?
The health benefits - seriously.

17. Have you ever gone to therapy?
Yes, for years. Also currently.

18. If you could have one super power, what would it be?
To relive my 20's and 30's without being paralyzed by the fear of
diabetes complications - note that I did not say without diabetes.

19. Do you own any furniture from Ikea?
Yes, a lamp. I went the opening weekend and stood in line 90
minutes to pay for it.

20. Have you ever gone camping?
Lots, and still do. Up until a couple of years ago I also used to take one
solo camping trip per summer - sort of a mini contemplative retreat.

21. Gas prices - first thought
"What's this world coming to?"

22. Your favorite cartoon character?
Lucy

23. What was your first car?
A Honda civic with 200,000 miles on it. I cannot remember the
color (so long ago).

24. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual?
No.

25. The Cosby Show or The Simpsons?
Cosby Show

26. Do you go to church?
No, but a couple of times a month I go to the Quaker meeting house
and sit with the community and listen for that "still small voice
within".

27. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Bob Dylan, of course.

28. What errand/chore do you despise?
Cleaning my mini-blinds.

29. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
"Yipee, it's Friday."

30 Last time you puked from drinking?
Never.

31. What is your heritage?
Norweigan

32. Favorite flower?
Purple iris

33. Disney or Warner Bros?
Disney

34. What is your best childhood memory?
Going to my grandma's farm in the summer and trekking into the
woods to pick blackberries. The mosquitoes were very thick and
once we did some makeshift mosquito netting from old lace
curtains.

35. Your favorite potato chip?
Baked Lays sour cream 'n' onion.

36. What is your favorite candy?
Milky Way caramels, Milk Duds and Twizzlers Red Licorice Bites

37. Do you burn or tan?
Burn, like any self-righteous Scandinavian would.

38. Astrological sign?
Cancer

39. Do you own a gun?
No, but I have 40+ pairs of very sharp knitting needles and an
equally threatening pruning shears.

40. What do you think of hot dogs?
The best way to cook them is on a campfire, sticking them directly
into the flames until they're all black.

Have a good weekend.

Uncertainty

2006-09-20T19:00:00.000-05:00

I just got done yelling (in all cap letters)online at my nephew, "E", in Duluth because he "forgot" to tell me that his mother had an emergency appendectomy on Monday (she is fine). He and I talk several times a week and he thought I knew.

Well, it wasn't E's fault that I had a meltdown It's because it reminded me of all the sudden things that can be thrown our way, that we don't know are coming, that can shatter our world in a second.

And that's what illness is sometimes about - uncertainty - we hope the treatment will work, but we don't know for sure; this rarely happens, but, in your case...........; our "best guess" would be .....; past experience indicates..........." -- blah blah blah. And with uncertainty comes fear. Fear that I won't be okay, fear that I won't be able to cope with what comes next, fear that my life will be shortened in some dreadful way before I get everything done.

Now we've all heard of the person who gets a clean bill of health at the doc's office and has a fatal heart attack leaving the building, or the individual who gets run over by the bus while innocently crossing the street. Yes, we are all vulnerable, but diabetes makes us more aware of this.

So instead of letting the "fear cauldron" boil over, I'm going to send E an animated e-mail wink and apologize, call my sister and tell her I love her, and make some jewelry with these beautiful glass beads I've been hoarding. Scrubbin the bathtub and other assorted chores on my list for tonight can wait until tomorrow. Diabetes has taught me not to forget what's important.

Emily

2006-09-07T18:15:00.000-05:00

This week is my niece Emily’s 5th birthday. At least, it’s her “legal” birthday. Emily was found in a cardboard box in an alley in Wei Lin, China and they did not know exactly how old she was so she was assigned a date.

My older sister surprised us all 4 years ago by announcing that she, at age 44, had been approved for single-parent adoption and would soon go to China to pick up her baby. We were dumbfounded but excited.

I’m pretty much of a homebody and traveling just doesn’t call to me like it does to some, but……………..China, that’s a different story. I have practiced tai chi nearly every day for the last 14 years and have studied acupuncture intermittently for the last 10. A trip to China would be the dream of a lifetime, and to see that baby placed in F’s arms would be priceless.

So, I decided that I’d go with F to “get the baby”. I did endless preparation - planned the “touristy” things, studied the language, got the name of a college of traditional Chinese medicine to visit. I couldn’t believe that this was happening.

Ten days before we were scheduled to leave, I woke up with a hemorrhage in my eye. It was like dumping an entire pepper shaker into an egg white and whisking it up. My retinal specialist got me in that morning and said his best guess would be that the vitreous would clear in a few weeks. But the trip was in less than two weeks - how did my other eye look? I could certainly go with just monocular vision, but what if the good one also bled? Dr. M is a deeply kind person. He put his hand on my shoulder as I cried and said that if it were him, he’d stay home, but it was my choice. I still thought I could pull it off. He told me to come back in a week, three days before departure. He did an ultrasound and told me that my retina had completely separated from the back of my eye and I’d need immediate surgery. I was stunned and rapidly slid into that tunnel of “blissful numbness”, where you shut down because the emotional pain is simply too much.

I don’t feel like recounting the details of the surgery and recovery right now, but no, I did not go to China. I was too immersed in the health crisis and did not experience the profound sense of unfairness and disappointment until days later. Why why why did that f’ing diabetes take away my one dream? I’ve never asked for much from life, and at that time it seemed like I’d never gotten much, either.

But today, 4 years later, I can see all that Emily is - in her Halloween costume, blowing out birthday candles, ripping open Christmas gifts and rushing to greet me with open arms. I can see her cousins (all boys) fussing over her endlessly. I have a picture of her on my desk at her first baseball game (go Twins) where we both came home with peanut shells in our hair - and I could see the scoreboard clearly

Because of laser beams, retinal surgery and Dr. K.M., I am living my reward.

I’m sure that diabetes will be the reason for more disruptions, disappointments and snafus as the currents of life carry me on. But the rage has faded to nothing.

That dear sweet baby was one of a million stars in the sky that was chosen to come and be a member of our family. And because of her, we all shine more brightly.

Happy Birthday Em. I love you.

It's Only Money

2006-08-30T17:53:00.000-05:00

I know that most of us in the OC have frequent concerns about money, the cost of good health care and having our diabetes needs met now and in the future. I think about it a lot.

I needed to document some expenses for my '05 Health Care Spending Account at work and ordered an itemized hospital bill for my broken ankle surgery. I had heard the stories about "charging $5 for an aspirin" and didn't think much about it, until the envelope with 7 pages of expenses came in the mail yesterday.

Can you believe these charges?.............

finger-stick blood sugar test $15
one 250 mg tablet of oxycodone $22
one 75 mcg tablet of synthroid $17
one titanium plate (to hold the bones together) $560
5 minutes of instruction on using crutches $300
one "Darth Vader" air cast $275
one ace wrap $20

But the real whack upside the head was the insulin. I saw the first entry, "insulin/Humalog", $35 and thought, "well, that's pretty much in line - not too bad". Then, the same day I saw three more $35 entries. I called the billing department as I had a couple other questions and the rep said, "oh, they use a new bottle for each injection to avoid cross-contamination". A new bottle for my 3 unit dose to cover lunch? And throw the rest away? Good thing I was only there for 2 days. I then phoned my HMO case worker and we talked about this and she said this particular hospital had recently re-evaluated their policy and they were taking multiple doses from the same vial for each patient.

I had good coverage for the stay and am thankful that there was only a $500 co payment on my part. The total bill for the surgery and 2 nights was $17000. Go figure. Things do seem to be spiraling out of control in a big way and I don't know what to do about it.

It didn't help that the nursing care was fair, at best. I had asked for a toothbrush more than once and was never brought one. Beause of the diabetes I was supposed to have been sent home with detailed written instructions about wound care and inspecting the incisions along with several sets of new dressings (somebody forgot). When I was talking to the surgeon's PA after I got home, she asked how the staples looked and I told her I didn't know I was supposed to take the leg out of the boot. She said it was very important that everything be inspected 3x daily, per the "handout" so a runaway infecction didn't set in. She said to do so immediately while she was still on the line. I said "but I don't have any new bandages" and she suggested I use a minipad. I told her I was out and could I use a tampon instead? ...........she thought I was kidding; I was not.

I'm not planning on going to the hospital anytime soon, but, if so, I will ask for an itemized bill right away while things are still fresh in my mind. And I will not let my questions go unanswered.

The Great Minnesota Get Together

2006-08-25T18:13:00.000-05:00

Every year my friends E and J and I mark the beginning of the end of summer by going to the Minnesota State Fair. It lasts for 10 days, but we always go on the first day while things are still nice and fresh.

The fair is a chowhound’s paradise - food stands every 10 feet, mostly offering things loaded with fat, sugar and salt - yum. For many people, the only reason to go is to eat themselves into a stupor (been there, done that)

About 4 years ago we tried something different. We went right after lunch, made the decision not to have anything but water. Since we each had then saved at least $30, we would close the day by going out to dinner at an upscale seafood restaurant in my neighborhood.

It has worked great each year - no stress over what to have, no guilt over unwise choices, and no lethargy from being stuffed to the gills. I also treat hypos only with glucose tablets. We all know that just one chocolate chip cookie when low can easily lead to an unbecoming episode (also known as a binge).

13 Foods I DID NOT EAT at the Minnesota State Fair:

Category I - easy to pass up
Deep fried pickle on a stick
Deep fried Twinkie on a stick
Deep fried Snicker Bar on a stick
Yogurt made from sheep’s milk, called “ewe-gurt”

Category II - I’m curious about these
Bayou Bob’s alligator tail on a stick (last year they sold 10,000 pounds worth)
Personal pan-fried nuggets of ostrich meat
Buffalo jerky

Category III - drooling all the way down the street
Giant cream puffs
Yard long red licorice whips
Apple fritters made with the Minnesota State Fruit - the honey crisp apple
Onion rings
Foot long hot dog
Homemade rasberry pie served by blue-haired ladies at one of the many church diners

Fun things we did:
Patted a porcupine
Held an iguana
Watched a race of miniature goats pulling little carts; one of them escaped and was still MIA when we left the arena
Had my posture evaluated by a chiropractic student - yes, I know that my shoulders are uneven from carrying that heavy purse all these years
Saw of likeness of this year’s “Dairy Princess” being carved from a giant block of frozen butter.

I also artfully dodged a big glob of llama spit that flew over my shoulder. Its owner said, “now, honey, you went and provoked him - he doesn’t like being stared at and you made him mad”. (Ahem, what is he doing on display if he doesn’t like being stared at?)

We happily ended the day with a lovely meal of scallops, new potatoes, and key lime pie.
(Post prandial bg = 157).

Why the food thing worked:
It was planned behavior.
I had proof from previous years that it would work.
Other people did it with me.
There were many distractions
I knew that eventually there was “a treat” at the end of the day.

As we were driving home, I told E and J that I was going to recount my day at the fair on my blog and J said “oh, don’t - all those people will think we live at the crossroads between Hooterville and Lake Wobegon”. Well, we do, and I love it.

Be Careful What You Ask For.........................

2006-08-23T20:52:00.000-05:00

I've felt that my clinic is a bit behind the times because they always draw the blood after my quarterly visit with Dr. S. I then wait a few days and start to get really anxious, looking for "the envelope" in the mailbox, then ritualistically lay it in a certain spot on my kitchen counter and wait a couple hours to open it.

Well.........this morning when I got to the check-in desk the lady said, "oh, we have a new procedure - your lab orders are already written up and you can go down right now so that Dr. S. can discuss the results with you today.

NO!!!!!!!!! they can't do that to me - I need time to psyche myself up to hear the result - I'm not ready for it today - this was not in my plans..................shit.

So I drag my heels down to the lab and then plod back up to Internal Medicine.
Dr. S. comes in and says I look upset and I mumbled something about not feeling very flexible or adaptable.

But, it was good to have it over with and be able to discuss the AlC number in conjunction with my logging records. Hell, I am a medical consumer, my HMO pays a lot for me to have these appointments and yet I feel like I'm going to the principal and have to defend myself for misperceived bad behavior.

When I was ready to leave I asked him to renew my prescriptio for test strips. I told him I wanted 200, and to specifically say "use as directed" He said, "ok, sure - so 200, that's a 3 month supply. " (Do the math, doc, I've just shown you a log book with 7 tests per day..............................) Ouch.

Because

2006-08-16T18:46:00.000-05:00

Finish this sentence.........."Because of the diabetes.........'

I would say that............ 1) my life has been ruined
2) I have clnical depression and have to take meds
3) I weigh more than I'd like to
4) I'm stuck at a dead-end unfulfilling job
5) I have to spend a lot of money on co-payments for
oral meds, insulin, and office visits - money that I'd
like to be spending on clothes, recreation, new
furniture and vacations.........
(I decided I'd limit myself to 5 salient points.)
Rebuttal........................ 1) inconclusive, as my life's not over yet
2) clinical depression is rampant on my mother's
side of the family - if I been taken back 40 years, the
treatment of choice was electro-convulsive therapy -
lovely
3) what in the heck does diabetes have to do with me
stuffing my face?
4) well, probably not
5) well, maybe

Now for the next page:--please note that all things in bold face are advancements that occurred within the last 30 years.

1) Because of laser therapy, I can see out of my left eye.
2) Because of retinal angiography, the dr. knew exactly where to put the laser and did not have to destroy healthy tissue.
3) Because of the nitrous oxide bubble technique, I had the best possible chance of my detached retina healing well
4) Because of the ACE Inhibitors, my kidney function has returned to normal.
5) Because of June Bierman and Barbara Toohey, I am probably alive today. These dear sweet ladies launched their writing career with "The Peripatetic Diabetic", a book that I was initially annoyed with because of the PollyAnna optimism. But, it gave me hope in those early days to keep on living.
6) Because of Dr. Lois Jovanic and Dr. Charles Peterson, I was willing to try MDI. Their book "The Diabetes Self Care Method" launched a whole new world of matching carbs to insulin and getting rid of that wretched exchange system.
7) Because of blood glucose monitoring I no longer have to pee in a cup. I no longer have to guess when I'm low. I no longer have to leave a high untreated.
8) Because of the A1C test, I am given valuable information on whether things need to change or remain the same in my daily self-care.
9) Because of the glycemic index, I have an idea that not all carbs are the same.
10) Because of those obnoxious, sour-chalk glucose tabs, I can treat a hypo reasobably quickly, without a lot of overkill.
11) Because of books, magazines, and the world wide web, we get exciting new information right away.

Because I am sobbing very hard and don't want my keyboard to be ruined, I will sign off. (Why do we pwd have to feel things so deeply?)

Wait and See

2006-08-10T19:03:00.000-05:00

I had my MRI follow-up appointment today, to see if I had a stress fracture in my foot. I was pretty confident that everything was fine because the pain was lessening every day and people at work were commenting on the fact that my limp was gone. Stopped and took my bp in the waiting room - 122/65. Yipee! The body is doing well today!
The nurse took me to the exam room and said that Dr. P. was out of town and Dr. D. would see me - “he’s the real kingpin around here - the Head of the Department - he really knows his stuff and you’re lucky to see him”.

Dr. D. soon then appeared and asked how I was doing, and I told him "much better”. He said, “Well, that’s good, but we found two stress fractures in your foot and we’ll have to wait and see. This is not uncommon; just wear good shoes, don’t go barefoot, no running or jumping and you should be fine. You can walk as much as you want."
I started crying and then sobbing at a grand level. I muttered, "I've been through too much and can't take any more - the last 'wait and see' situation was with my left eye, and ten days later I had a fully detached retina”.

He looked startled and annoyed. He slammed a box of Kleenex on my lap, and said “Now you listen here, missy - I’ve been practicing orthopedics for 30 years and have horror stories about diabetes and lower limbs that would give you nightmares. You were extremely lucky - your ankle healed without incident. Look - you had 49 staples on the outerside and 35 on the inner and you hardly have a noticeable scar. And now you’re hysterical about a non-eventful stress fracture - you’ve gotta get thing in perspective or you’ll make yourself crazy”.

By then I was down to a sniffle. He stood up and said “And oh, by the way - the best thing you can do at this point is lose about 20 pounds - even 10 would take a lot of stress off your bones.”

He left and a moment later the nurse came in and handed me a piece of paper. “Dr. D. said to give you his pager number and if you have any concerns, leave a message and he will personally call you back. "

The magic of this life is that the messages are always out there for us - we just need to be listening.

Build on the Victories. MN

Gertrude

2006-08-05T19:17:00.000-05:00

This weekend is the Art Fair Weekend in Minneapolis - three art fairs. all in the heart of the city, each with something for everyone. Alas, I happen to live in the middle of one of them (and there is no "disrupting my tranquility" discount.
I went to all three, walked a total of 19,000 steps, thought I could tolerate a bag of caramel corn with all that activity, but had a nasty spike of 340.
I bought this tiny cloth figure, a "wildwoman doll". She looks sturdy, determined, and well-grounded. I told the artist that I was going to have to thinkf of a name for her, and she replied, "no need - her name is Gertrude". The only Gertrudes I know are a friend of my grandma's and my neighbor Charlie's Saint Bernard.
When I got home I looked up the meaning of the name, and it is Germanic for spear-throwing strength. (Gulp.) Oh my.
I'm going to have to think about that one. I'll let you know if anything comes to me.
But for now, I have fastened her to my bathroom mirror, to remind me that I can go forward each day, strong, competent, and willing to try something new

Further Comments on The Numbers

2006-08-02T19:24:00.000-05:00

I was doing a lot of thinking about my last post and hope I didn’t convey the impression that I was trashing “the numbers”. The information the numbers provide is priceless - it’s just that I have a habit of getting emotionally entangled in them and sometimes it’s a tight corner to break out of.

I was running a bit low all day yesterday, and when I got on the bus to go home tested at 47. I have a pretty consistent pattern of a gradual rise in bg between 4-6 p.m., so decided not to treat the hypo and thought I’d be fine. I also really, really wanted to be able to record a “70” in my logbook rather than a “140”. Good Girl. Good Job. Your numbers looked great today…. ……….but, poor decision.

I got off the bus and headed to the grocery store to get some fresh blueberries. I then had the sensation that I was on a treadmill and the sidewalk was moving underneath me, rather than me moving above it - a nofail sign that I was headed south, rapidly. The store that I shop at always has these seductive trays of cheese cubes for sampling. I think the intention is to put just one on a toothpick. Well, I was getting very famished and started stabbing three or four on at once, furiously making my own personal mini-kebabs, and then tried a couple more but my coordination was down the tubes so I moved on to the brownie bites. Had maybe 6 or 7. My mouth was starting to tingle, another sign of a bad situation.

I was pretty lucky to have made it home - testing at 32!. I did not bother to change out of my work clothes and popped a Lean Cuisine in the microwave. When it was ready I stared at it, not quite recalling how to take the cellophane off, so instead opened some juice and spilled it all over my nice dressy skirt.

What an inexcusable chain of poor choices. If I hadn’t been so stubborn and taken 4 glucose tablets, I would have been absolutely fine by the time I got home, had a nice relaxing dinner, and not ruined my favorite piece of clothing. At 7:30 I was up to 360 and spent the rest of the evening chasing after the high and had to set my alarm for 1 a.m. to be sure I wasn’t bottoming out. I feel that caring for the diabetes takes up so much time, but so does sweeping out the trail of dust that is left by a dumb-ass attempt to keep my ego inflated. And, not to mention the fact that even though I’ve never passed out from a hypo, I could have easily been nose-down on the sidewalk.

Do I need another broken ankle? I don’t think so. Do I need a $200 co-payment for an ambulance ride? Probably not. Do I need to forgive myself and try again tomorrow? Yeah, you betcha.

Thursday lies ahead, and the weekend is in sight. Take care. If anyone has any foolproof tips for removing purple grape juice from beige linen, send them my way.

Caught Up in The Numbers

2006-07-27T18:28:00.000-05:00

I had a nice day at work - focused and productive. I was happy to see one of my friends at the bus stop and we exchanged pleasantries about the weekend coming up. Then another person came along and said "oh, how can you stand it out here - it's 90 degrees!" Well, until then, I hadn't thought a smidge about the weather - no opinion whatsoever - it's July in Minnesota, no more, no less. But.......within a few seconds I started to feel a tad uncomfortable, and craned my neck to see the digital thermometer on the bank up the street. It said 96 degrees (in direct sun) and then I noticed that my face suddenly felt flushed, my hair was starting to frizz and my skin felt like the sweat was oozing out in big honking drops. All because of the numbers...............the numbers that dictate how we should feel at a certain temperature.
Since I started working on my control, I think a lot about numbers and sometimes they tell me how to feel. When I get on the scale and the numbers haven't changed, I feel like a big fat cow and hear "nothing's gonna make you look good today, so don't bother putting on anything nice". When I look at my pedometer at the end of the day and see 9950 rather than 10,000 steps, I hear, "you are lazy and undisciplined - why even bother". When I take my blood pressure and see 128/75 I hear "that's toward the top of the target range - I'd be really worried if I were you".
And when my dawn phenomenon is very active and I wake up with a blood sugar of 180, I hear "ha - your day is off to a rotten start so you might as well stop at Starbuck's and get a nice gooey cinnamon roll".
The numbers can change my mood in the second that it takes them to appear.
Yes, I am thankful for the wealth of information that numbers provide - when my meter tells me my blood sugar is 42, it's time to treat the hypo; when my A1C goes down .5 of a point, it's time for a pat on the back.
But, the next time the numbers threaten to throw me into an irational, undies in a bundle tailspin of shame, apathy, fear and depression, I'm going to calmly say, "you're not the boss of me" and walk away.

Them Bones.....................

2006-07-23T15:13:00.000-05:00

Good golly, it took me awhile to get the hang of all this - templates, settings, formatting, editing, but I think I'm on my way.
About a year and a half ago I fell on the ice and broke my ankle, needing 2 plates and 2 pins and 8 weeks on crutches. Every time I went to the clinic I was upset and angry that the Dr.'s main focus was the diabetes -
"because of the diabetes, the bone might not heal", "because of the diabetes, the incisions might become infected", "because of the diabetes......blah blah blah". It was an endless tirade that remnded me of things that I knew were true but were tucked away in the back file. I even heard the nurses out in the hall whispering "she' diabetic". I felt like standng in the middle of them and swinging my crutch 360 degrees and whacking as many people as possible.
But, thankfully, I healed quickly and completely. The day I looked down and saw shoes on both my feet was fabulously liberating.
About a month ago I started having weird pain on the top of the same foot, and immediately went to the symptom checker websites (the hypochondriac's gold mine) and concluded that I should be evaluated for a stress fracture. Went back to the same clinic and this time the doc said, "we'll have to do a full set of xrays of the lower leg and foot, just to be sure your ankle's not falling apart - there's an uncommon complication callet 'Charcot's joint' and if you've got it you're in big trouble". Well, I'm familiar with Charcot - one of my cousins had it and was completely disabled. He left the room and that familiar gut wrenching cold sweat terror sank in, that primordial fear that leaves you pleading to whoever will listen, "please, not me". I hate that more than any of the other unpleasant emotions that accompany a health issue. It is paralyzing and send your common sense reeling away.
After many drawn out minutes, the xrays were taken and transmitted to my computer file. He pulled them up on the screen and said, "the ankle looks fine, and stress fractures don't show up on xrays". So, I am scheduled for an MRI and some physial therapy.
I am disappointed in myself, becaue I was so sure that I'd gotten stronger, much stronger in the last couple of years during my retinopathy experience, feeling that I could handle whatever else came along, but there I was, a near basket case in the ortho clinic.
I asked the PA if I could continue to walk on it and go shopping, (because I had taken the whole day off) and she said "sure" so off I went to the Mall of America and consoled myself with some picket fencing and sidewalks from LegoLand.

My Maiden Voyage

2006-07-18T18:30:00.000-05:00

Greetings to everyone in the circle. This is my maiden voyage in posting. I ran across an article by Gabrielle Kaplan-Mayer in Yoga Journal and found she had written a book, went to her website, didn't know what a "blog" was and had to find out, went to Scott Johnson's page, found out he was a fellow Minnesotan, and here I am. Diabetes has led me down some rocky paths over the years and now I'm about to take a side trip.
I grew up in an extended family laden with Type 1's - my grandmother had 12 brothers and sisters and their grandchildren's generation was afflicted - 36 of us at this count. By the time I was diagnosed I had witnessed nearly every devastating complication and after a few months of "good-girl compliancy" said "f--k it" and decided that if I was gonna end up like one of them, I might as well have some fun along the way. I spent 25 years wandering around with a blood sugar of 350 or more, sometimes feeling smug that nothing bad had caught up with me. I ate what and when I wanted (and never gained any weight). The only sensible thing I did was convert to multiple daily injections when they became the treatment of choice - somehow that assuaged the guilt from the other stuff I was doing. But even with that aspect, I embraced self destruction like a crazywoman and reused syringes and injected through clothing.
About six years ago I nearly died during an episode of ketoacidosis, and believe me, I was ready to go. Yet ten days later I was on the sidewalk outside the hospital, waiting for a cab, thinking "now what"?
There was no big "aha" moment, but it was the beginning of the cleanup of my act. Since then I've had several A1C's under 7, and this last January learned that the microalbumin in my urine had completely disappeared. But facing the reality of the disease left me in a major state of clinical depression. When I finally found a med that worked, it was refueled by a stint with retinopathy.
But my life today is pretty okay. I work and do my job well; I'm a good friend and family member; I have many interests in diverse areas and thankfully the reasonable health that allows me to pursue them.
Spilling my guts in these few words has left me emotionally exhausted.
As I write this I still think it's about somebody else - no, not me. But, when I read everybody's wonderful posts and discover that other people with diabetes are extremely bright, articulate, compassionate and funny, I may come to see that it's not such a bad clan to belong to after all.
Build on the victories.