Post A New Comment

I read blog post yesterday by Christopher Snider. Chris is hoping that on Monday, July 22nd people like you will take the time to comment on every diabetes blog that they read. Chris thinks that, "comments make the world go ’round, as far as blogging is concerned. Yes, there are stat counters and analytics reports you can run, but pageviews and unique visitors don’t mean much to me when it comes to sharing personal stories and experiences. What matters to me is when someone reads something I write, and then takes the time to leave a comment.". I couldn't agree with Chirs more and I am hoping that you to read his blog about the topic.

You already know what some of your favorite diabetes blogs means to you, but did you ever wonder what they are for the writer? Or how your participation completes the connection between the two of you and the other people reading? Diabetes blogs aren't like a tech or news blog, I'm not a guy reporting on a story, I'm a person sharing deeply personal thoughts and feelings in the hopes that my sharing will strike a cord of commonality with you. My only goal is to make your day a little easier, better, happier, lighter, more informed. My personal hope is that my sharing will, in some way, help you to not worry, panic, feel alone. I just want to help because I know how it feels to be in your position and no one deserves to feel that alone, scared and helpless - because we really aren't... but sometimes it takes finding others living the same life to realize that is true, at least it did for me. 

What you may not know is the act of writing on this blog is how I find peace with type I diabetes. My calm comes when I can see people like you reading. I tell myself that it doesn't matter if you leave a comment, that I can tell that you are getting something from the experience when you return the next day. I think what Chris is saying is that he believes blog comments perpetuate more blogs. He may be correct, I don't know. I'm not sure how seeing more comments would effect my writing frequency but I do like his idea for Monday.

Anyway, Chris's blog made me want to tell you that I have faith that you are out there and that sometimes I write stuff that you find valuable. But if I'm being honest, some days it is really nice to hear a voice come back from within the abyss.

I hope you have a second to read about what Chris is calling, #dblogcheck - Have a great weekend!

Small World

Kelly, Arden and Cole went to a movie the other day while I stayed home to write. They were gone just a little over an hour when I received a text from Kelly, she was concerned that Arden's canula had become dislodged. Arden's BG was rocketing in the darkened theater and Kelly thought that I should bring some insulin and a needle.

With two syringes and a vial of Apidra in my pocket, I approached the customer service counter at our local multiplex expecting to find someone who wouldn't understand why I needed to enter the building without buying a ticket. When it was my turn a young lady asked if she could help me and I said, "My daughter is in theater fourteen, her insulin pump isn't working and I'm here to give her an injection". Before I could tell her that I would only be in the building for a few moments she said, "No problem, go right in". I have to admit that I thought her lack of resistance was because she heard some "medical words" and didn't want to get involved.

I texted Arden, she came into the lobby to meet me, we tested and shot right there on the bench. Our entire interaction lasted maybe four minutes.

On my way out I waved to the girl so she would know I was leaving. To my surprise she called to me and asked which pump Arden uses. I told her OmniPod and she responded, "Oh, the one without the tubing... how do you like it?". Now this girl was perhaps nineteen and I could only think of one way that she would know that so I said, "How old were you?".

The lovely CSR told me that she was diagnosed when she was nine and then asked about Arden. "Just after her second birthday", I answered. The girl smiled and said, "She has me beat!".

We exchanged pleasantries before I said, "Small world". Turns out that the pod was delivering insulin just fine though Arden did need the insulin that we injected. I think maybe the entire trip was just the universe's way of letting me meet a happy, polite and thoughtful young girl who has type I diabetes. I smiled all the way to my car.

Live TuDiabetes Interview with Scott

Join Scott this Thursday, July 18 for a live video chat with Emily Coles from TuDiabetes.org. Scott will get chatty about blogging, type I diabetes advocacy, being a caregiver to Arden, his time as a stay-at-home dad and much more. It's going to be fun, hope to see you there!

Chat begins at 1 pm PDT, 4pm EST.

Please rsvp to the event on the TuDiabetes website so Emily knows how many scones to make - such a wonderful host!

It's my party, I'll reflect if I want to

Life expectancy for an American male is seventy-five, I just turned forty-two. What that means is, barring any unexpected endings, I have thirty-three years left.

Yesterday Cole and Arden took me to see a movie for my forty-second birthday, when we exited the theater it was pouring rain. I told the kids to wait by the door and I would bring the car to them. I sprinted to my car, it was perhaps seventy-five yards from the door. As I was running I passed a gentleman in his fifties, he was walking to his car and getting drenched in the process. Cole and Arden jumped in when I arrived at the door and Cole said, "You are faster then people would expect". I smiled at his kind, if not slightly backhanded shot at my weight but all I could think was, "Ten more years and I'll be that guy walking".

It's funny but after my mid twenties I never thought about my mortality once, I was carefree about my age until Arden was diagnosed just after my thirty seventh birthday. Now, everything that aches, my right knee, both of my ankles, my throwing elbow, the stiff neck I can't shake - all of it makes my think about Arden or more specifically, about Arden's diabetes. Lately, I've been extra tired. I'm not ill and nothing has changed about my schedule, I think that seven years of late nights full of blood glucose wrangling is catching up with me. Last night I tried to get some sleep. I told myself that Arden was going to be fine, gave myself permission not to sleep with one ear open and it worked great. I woke up this morning around seven thirty completely refreshed with a streak of warm sunlight on my face. The first thing that I saw when I opened my eyes was my beautiful wife. I laid in the quiet for a few minutes and thought about how pretty Kelly is and how lucky I was that she said yes on the day that I asked her to go on our first date. But that glow only lasted for a few minutes.

A muffled BEEP, BEEP rang out...

My heart sank into my stomach, that sound is the unmistakable cry of Arden's DexCom after it's fallen onto her bedroom floor. The beeping made me feel instantly sick for two reasons. First, the only way that thing could have fallen is if it had been vibrating all night and second, two beeps means Arden's BG is over 180. All night plus two beeps, equals this isn't going to be good.

I walked into Arden's room and tested her BG as she slept. The night before Arden's BG was falling before bed, she had a few slices of an orange and a cookie to combat the fall and her BG found a balance at 89. Thirty minutes later that number was 95 and her DexCom indicated that the number was drifting, ever so slightly up. I remember thinking, "Good, I'll take a 120ish number tonight, I'm exhausted". It was not twenty minutes later that I gave myself permission to pass out, and I did. I slept all night like a baby while Arden's BG slowly rose over the next two hours before it settled in at three hundred and ninety-one. I don't have words for how 391 makes me feel.

Am I too old to care for my daughter properly? Too tired, too out of shape? Have the health and food choices that I've been ignoring over the past two decades caught up to me, is this my penance for those... I haven't exercised regularly since my twenties, I hardly eat and I haven't had eight glasses of water in a day, maybe ever. Funny thing is that up until recently it didn't matter because nothing could stop me and I could power through anything. I've sat up until two, three, four, even five o'clock in the morning if that's what was required to keep Arden's BG where it should be. I've had nights like last night in the past where I slept through a DexCom alarm, but I don't think last night was a repeat of those nights. I think my age is catching up to me and even if it hasn't, how much longer until I'm that guy in the parking lot that has to let the rain soak him? How much longer until I'm exactly as fast as I look like I should be?

I've never been in great shape, never really cared about it enough to put in the time and work that fitness requires. I don't honestly know if I have it in me but I'm going to try because I can live with a belly and I may not care about a double chin, but my heart can't handle Arden's BG being 391... that beeping cuts right through to my soul.

What do you want to tell diabetes?

This morning on Facebook I found myself wishing that diabetes was a 'someone' instead of a 'something' so I could tell it to go f#^& itself for keeping me up all night. I had a particularly long day working around our house in the heat yesterday and today I find myself with more writing to do than time in the day - I really needed that sleep.

I must admit... venting about it online felt good!

In fact, I liked the experience so much that I thought you may like to tell diabetes off and start the week with a clean mental palate too. So feel completely free to leave any message that you may have for diabetes in the comment section of this post. Don't worry about language or tone... let it fly. Usually, I love to see who left comments but today, wanting to be anonymous is completely understood. I hope that you find it as cathartic as I did to say, "fuck you diabetes".