I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes just before I started second grade, back in 1986.  I played with Barbie dolls, colored countless coloring books with my box of Crayola 96 (sharpener in the back), and sported a messy ponytail as often as my mom would allow.  

But my life also included dozens of plastic bags filled with orange-capped syringes.  And black meter cases that zipped up the side and held my glucose meter.  And small vials of bandaid-scented insulin.  My childhood was colorful and fun and just like every other kids', but there were some dreary bits of diabetes management as a running thread.

I wish there had been things like this to hold my meter in when I was growing up with type 1 - because these meter cases are awesome:

This meter case was created by Kyrra Richards, who was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in 2007.  I think it is GORGEOUS.  After her diagnosis, Kyrra created Myabetic - a specialty store stocked with playful and cool glucose meter cases.  She sent me a few of her meter cases to review here on SUM, and she also offered to share a little bit of her story.  

*   *   *

Kerri:  Hey Kyrra!  What’s your diabetes story?

Kyrra from Myabetic:  I grew up as a dancer and was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes after returning home from a dance tour in Afghanistan.  I had been performing for the troops at military bases and realized that I was out-eating soldiers in the dining facilities.  After guzzling down 24 water bottles in a day and a half, I finally went to the doctor and received my diagnosis just before my 25th birthday.  I began the endless cycle of doctor appointments, lab tests, educator meetings, and waiting rooms.  The physical changes were frustrating, but the emotional obstacles proved to be even more challenging.  I created Myabetic as a way to cope constructively with my diabetes.

Kerri:  How do you think that Myabetic can help make a difference for people with diabetes?  What gap are you guys filling?

Kyrra from Myabetic:  Myabetic was founded because I felt a need to personalize health management.  Although diabetes is a constant struggle, we have the opportunity to take control of our treatment.  Upon my diagnosis, I lacked the motivation and self-worth to properly care for my condition.  Using the standard-issue nylon case only made me feel more ‘sick.’  I personalize so much of my life – my cell phone, computer, license plate – why not do it with healthcare?  We are all strong, unique individuals, and I wanted our daily testing accessories to reflect our personalities.

Kerri:  What made you want to become more involved in the diabetes community?

Kyrra from Myabetic:  The most rewarding aspect of Myabetic has been the opportunity to contribute to our supportive, accepting community.  People with diabetes are passionate and strong!  It’s time that our accessories and equipment make us feel the same way.  I love carrying around our cases and am excited to share our products with everyone.  I know they can make a difference and bring smiles to healthy faces.  (Especially since I jumped for joy when my diabetes educator gave me a bunch of purple lancets – it’s the little things…)

Kerri:  If people want to find out more about your products, or want to order a meter case for themselves, how can they get in touch with you?

Kyrra from Myabetic:  We currently have cases for men, women, and children available on our website, Myabetic.  We would love to have everyone become a fan of Myabetic on Facebook and/or follow us on Twitter.  Check out the Community section of our website to find the links.  Also, if anyone would like to contact me directly, my email address is krichards (at) myabetic.com.

*   *   *

Thank you so much for sharing your talents with us, Kyrra!  And in the interests of full disclosure (also known as TMI), I'm sending the free samples I've received from Kyrra onward to some very kind readers who have reached out over the years.  One good turn, right?

(I'm off to Joslin for the day - have a great weekend!!)

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 10:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

This is an old graphic from a wicked old post (2007?  Whoa, the internet has had a hold on me for quite some time now.), but it still makes me laugh.  

That's it.  And now I have the giggles.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 09:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Ah, the cruel truth to pregnancy.  I'm currently 32 weeks pregnant, which means I'm eight months along.  "Oh great, Kerri!  That means you only have one month to go!"

WRONG!

Those perpetuating the rumor that pregnancy is only nine months long, I beg you to stop.  Because when we, the pregnant messes, crest up to the eight month mark, only to realize that there are eight weeks left to go?  We cry.  Sometimes we just bust out crying.  Because pregnancy is 40 weeks long, and when you divide 40 (weeks in total) by 4 (weeks in a month) ... well, even I can do that math.  It equals 10.  Ten months. 

So I'm eight months along, but I've got seven weeks left to go.

(Yes, this shirt is the same one that my best friend wore to her baby shower.
Nothing says "I love you" more than sharing maternity clothes.)

Expansion is rapid these days, and my pregnant body has gone from "comfortable" to "OMG, TEN MONTHS LONG?"  On the regular ol' pregnancy front, I'm experiencing some wicked swelling in my hands and feet, but thankfully my blood pressure is still holding steady.  Also thankfully, it's been warming up for the last few days, so sporting flip flops doesn't look too dorky.

Sleeping is an issue, though.  I'm having a miserable time getting a good night's sleep, because this swelling in my hands is waking me up with shooting pains in the middle of the night.  Actually, every hour or so I'm waking up with pain, despite the fact that I'm wearing wrist braces to bed.  I may have to bite the bullet and take some Tylenol, even though it will render my Dexcom pointless. (Tylenol makes the Dexcom throw inaccurate results, and I can't take Advil while pregnant, so it's about choosing pain or accurate CGM results.)  I'm trying to relax and remember that it's only a few more weeks of this.

On the diabetes front (and I'm afraid to say this out loud), I seem to have hit some kind of stride.  The 300's are gone.  The 240's are gone.  I'm seeing a few spikey 200's, but they are sometimes explainable (like after I was 50 mg/dl and I over treated a low) and some I just need to forgive myself for.  Overall, my numbers are steadier and I'm seeing more flat lines on the Dex than I saw a few weeks ago.  I'm so, so hopeful that the next seven weeks roll out in the same fashion.  My total daily insulin dosage is up to between 68 - 75 units of Humalog a day (far cry from the 24 - 28u I was taking pre-BSparl), and I'm wondering if this will remain the case until the delivery.  I'm holding my breath, praying that things just hold freaking steady for a little longer.

This week, I'll see my OB/GYN and the rest of my prenatal team, and I have a lot of questions to ask.  Like what happens if I go into labor before my scheduled delivery date?  What exactly is supposed to be that "bag that stays packed just in case?"  What can I do to alleviate this swelling, in efforts to stay comfortable for the next seven weeks?  How about those four days we'll be spending in the hospital - will I be able to wear my pump once the c-section is over?  Can I put the Dexcom back on at that point, too?  Does the baby sleep in the room with us or does she have to go to a different part of the hospital while I recover?  Will I be on painkillers after the surgery?  Does someone show me how to breastfeed or is that something I'm supposed to take a class for beforehand? 

Are they really going to trust me with a BABY??

(The question mark has become the most-used key on my laptop these days.)    

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (32) | TrackBacks (0)

A guest vlog, by Ms. Siah Sausage, expressing her views on BSparl, sandwiches, and her desire for world domination.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 01:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

When I started blogging back in May of 2005, I used my real name.  Which didn't strike me as odd because I figured that the only people who would ever see my written ramblings would be people I knew and sent the links to ... so blogging as "Kerri Morrone" seemed like a fine thing to do.

But things took a different sort of path, and suddenly Google had a solid grip on my name.  Which, again, was okay with me because I'm making these personal disclosure choices on a case-by-case basis.  So for anyone willing to give Google a go, it's easy to find my photo, some of my health conditions and treatment choices, and that I've married into a new, more challenging name.  There's a lot of information out there that I have chosen to share, for better or for worse. 

In some cases, it's "better" for me to use my real name and share my real experiences because blogging has not only helped me achieve better health, emotionally and physically, in regards to life with type 1 diabetes, but it's helped connect me with you guys, and that has been a game changer.  Blogging has also given me some very special opportunities to help make a difference when it comes to diabetes advocacy, and that has been tremendous in fueling both my own health and my career.  And honestly, having diabetes and talking about it doesn't make me feel shy.  I like sharing my stories, and hearing yours, and connecting with people who really and truly "get it."  I felt alone for way too long.  The impact of blogging on my overall health is something I can't put a value on. 

In other cases, it's "worse" for me to not blog anonymously, because now any potential employer can send a query into Google and see that I have type 1 diabetes.  Would that make them less likely to hire me?  More likely?  No change at all?  Either way, that information about my personal health is out there, and I can't take it back.  And not just health information, but personal information.  Real life information.

Disclosure on a blog isn't just about letting people know about free samples, or advertisements, or sponsorship opportunities.  That stuff is important, on a level of maintaining integrity and letting people know they can trust you to tell the truth, the whole truth, and only add some crap about cats occasionally. 

But I've been thinking about how disclosure will be handled, going forward, when it comes to my daughter.  From the moment I found out she was blooming inside of me, I felt instantly protective of this little biscuit.  Chris and I have talked extensively about how we want to handle our child's identity in regards to our respective projects, and we both agree that she hasn't decided to become part of the Google matrix yet.  So we aren't going to put her there.  This is a decision that we, as a family, have made, but it doesn't mean that it's the right choice for everyone.  There is no "right choice," in my opinion - just varying perspectives and levels of comfort.  (And who know how I'll feel once she's here and her little face is just too chubby-cute not to want to post a photo of.)  It's a lot to think about.

If my daughter decides, when she's older, to have a Facebook page or a blog or whatever is the social networking "thing" to do by that time, she can make that decision for herself.  But I don't want her to Google her own name and find more than she's comfortable with. (... That is the weirdest thought ever, picturing myself talking about blogging with my daughter over like coffee or something.  The thought just made me grin.)  Hopefully she won't object to being called BSparl. 

How do you guys handle disclosure?  Are you comfortable sharing your full name and occupation with people?  What kind of information to you like to keep private, and what do you feel comfortable sharing 100% with anyone who asks?  Have you ever had any regrets about how you've chosen to present yourself online?  For those of you with kids, what helps you decide what to share, and when, and how much of it to share? 

Sorry for all the questions, but as the baby grows daily, so does my protective nature.  And so does my laundry list of questions. 

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (57) | TrackBacks (0)

Nothing says "hot momma" like a pair of puffy pregnancy hands. 

BSparl and I almost at the 32 week mark, and I'm rocking what I've heard is a very common, but very uncomfortable symptom of pregnancy - swelling.  Water retention.  Puffiness.  Or, as I call it when I'm frustrated but more like Pepe Le Pew-frustrated when he can't get his mitts on that black cat: "Le Puff."  

The first half of my pregnancy was very comfortable.  No morning sickness and no real discomfort, just the growing potbelly and lots of blood sugar lows.  Second trimester was good enough (just got bigger and bigger) but now, deep into the third trimester, I'm starting to really feel the burn.  This puffy hands thing isn't just a mild complaint.  "Le Puff" is serious stuff! 

It's a combination of puffiness and pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome, with my hands aching and often seized with that 'pins and needles' feeling.  Wearing a wrist brace while I work helps a little, but not enough, and I find myself taking more and more long breaks to ease the pain in my hands from typing.  I wear the brace to bed, too, in efforts to keep my hands in a "neutral position" throughout the night. (Neutral, instead of like flipping Chris off at 2 am?  Would that be an "offensive position?")  And today, I'm off to get a second brace for my left hand, which will make me officially robotic while I sleep, with the two braces, the pump, the Dexcom, and this massive belly.

Like I said ... total hot momma.  :p

So one of the treatments for this miserable symptom - oddly enough, is more water.  It seems counter-intuitive to down a bottle of water when I'm feeling at the peak of Le Puff, but staying hydrated is the best way for me to keep the puff at bay.  And I'm also being monitored closely for pre-eclampsia, seeing as how I have a few of those risk factors in play (first pregnancy, diabetes, pre-existing hypertension ... good times again!). My blood pressure, and the other signs of pre-eclampsia, are being closely watched for, so hopefully no worries.

My next round of doctor appointments (and the beginning of the bi-weekly visit routine) is late next week, so I'm doing what I can to stay off my feet these days and prop them up while working.  Exercise is a little bit of a trouble spot, too, because shoving Le Puff feet into non-Le Puff sneakers is proving tricky on some days, but I've been trying to supplement with in-house yoga and stretching exercises (while barefoot).  And I'm resting a lot, which makes me feel like a lazy bum, but people keep telling me to get these naps in BEFORE the little biscuit arrives, so I'm taking their advice.

In the meantime, I'll Stay Puft.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 09:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (28) | TrackBacks (0)

"I'm here to pick up two scripts for Sparling.  First name is Kerri."

"Spaulding?"

"No, Sparling.  Like 'darling,' only with an S-P?"

The woman leaned in.  "Speaking?"

"SPAR-ling?"

She stretched so far across the counter that her name badge clanged against the formica top.  "Spanking?"

"Excuse me?" 

How was I going to get through this without laughing?  She wasn't mangling my name on purpose.  But "Spanking?"  That's another first. 

"No, ma'am.  Not Spanking.  Spar-ling.  Es, pee, ay, are, ell, eye, en, gee.  Sparling?"

"Oh!  Sparling!  Why didn't you say so?  I'll get those prescriptions for you.  Just a minute."

Sparkling.  Spaulding.  Spanking.  Tyson?

Still better than Moron, I say.  

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 09:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

A few nights ago, I had the opportunity to co-host a webinar for WEGO Health with Janis Rozsler (who literally wrote the books on handling diabetes and chronic illness).  It was a really cool discussion, and even though I have diabetes and Janis's expertise is in the field of diabetes, the talking points were applicable to more than just this one disease.

But since type 1 diabetes is what I'm most familiar with, and I couldn't help but spin every question in relation to my own health condition.  This question, in particular, threw me:

I get a lot of questions from blog readers.  (I ask a lot, too.)  Lots from family members.  Some from new friends, some from old buddies.  Some from people I've dated in the past.  And so many from Chris, as we learned about one another and planned for our future together.

The toughest question I've had to answer about diabetes is very direct, and completely innocent.  I've been asked this question over and over again, and have sometimes even asked it of myself.

"Will you be okay?"

It's such a simple question, but I know the words that are missing from the beginning and the end.  "You have diabetes ... will you be okay?  Or will you have complications?"

There are days when I'm certain of the answer.  "I'll be fine.  I'm working hard - I'll be just fine."  These are the days when I'm having a decent run on the Dexcom graph, and the average on my machine is under 120 mg/dl, and I'm feeling strong.  When I feel like diabetes is on the peripheral, and not the focus.

Other days?  Seems like the answer should be "Nope."  Those are the days when I'm screwing up every carb count, when my numbers are pinging from one end of the spectrum to the other without spending even 15 minutes 'in range,' and when I feel whipped by what this disease requires, physically and mentally.

I can do so much to protect my body from this disease.  I can test my blood sugar all day long, and really try hard to immediately correct the highs and quickly treat the lows.  I can keep a good attitude about things and realize that while my diabetes isn't completely in my control, my attitude can be, for the most part. 

But I'm never sure, and I hate when my brain starts to think too much about my control of the future.  I've written before about how diabetes complications are from diabetes, not from my lack of or emphasis on effort.  It comes down to us doing our best, our very best, to stay on top of our physical health as we remain tuned in to our mental health.  The last few weeks, with such a heavy focus on my diabetes management and with every breath (mine and my baby's) being tracked by my medical team, I'm hitting a level of burnout that I've never felt before.  I'm trying to stay focused on the end result - holding the baby!! - and that helps keep me grounded for a few more days.  I am pretty damn sure I'll be okay, overall, and even if my body has some physical hiccups as I spend more and more time with type 1 diabetes, I'm hopeful that a good attitude will see me through the tougher times.

"Will you be okay?"

Sometimes I just have to shrug and say what's really in my heart:  "I hope so."  And then a grin.  "I plan on it."

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 09:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

No WAY could I ever claim to "counsel" parents of kids with diabetes.  I'm not an expert, I'm not a doctor of any kind, and I don't have the first clue as to what I'm doing 90% of the time.  

So.  That being said, I will admit that I've emailed with lots of parents of kids with diabetes, and I've gotten so much out of that glimpse into what it's like to be the parent of a CWD.  Not counseling, but listening.  And learning.  Talking with these different parents has given me a whole new level of respect for what my mother and father did for me, growing up, and how I view my diabetes as a result of their care.

Over the weekend, I received a few questions from a parent that I couldn't quite wrap my head around.  They were big questions, the kinds that require coffee and one of those old school composition notebooks (and a phone call to my mom) to sort out in my head.  Here's my take on this mom's questions about growing up with diabetes:

How well did your parents do in managing your diabetes until you were able and independent?

I can't say my parents did anything short of remarkable work when it came to my diabetes.  And that goes for every parents of a CWD that I've met in the last few years.  I was diagnosed just before second grade, and my family didn't know anything about type 1 diabetes, let alone that it could ever effect their daughter.  They brought me to the hospital and stayed there with me for 12 days, learning how to inject insulin into oranges using syringes that they would eventually plunge into my own skin. 

My mother, in particular, took her role as "my pancreas" very seriously, and worked tirelessly to control my difficult blood sugars.  She tested me every morning when she first woke up, the sound of the ziiiiip on the black meter case stirring me just enough to poke my hand out from underneath the covers so that she could lance my fingertip.  She carried measuring cups in her purse and had a food scale in our kitchen.  My pancreas wasn't working hard enough, but my mother was.

This isn't to say that we were "perfect" in managing diabetes, or our emotions, or that we had one of those "unicorns and rainbows" types of relationships.  My parents and I battled endlessly about all kinds of stuff, from cleaning my bombsite of a room to my propensity to drive too fast to fighting over the boys I wanted to date to the diabetes I didn't want to control all the time.  Fights were part of the routine, but it wasn't because of diabetes.  It wasn't despite diabetes.  Diabetes was just part of the stuff we fought about. 

(And on the whole "able and independent" part, I'm still not fully either of those things.  I'm able to take care of myself, but I still lean on my parents, and my husband, and my friends for support.   And while I'm fiercely independent, I still need, and want, their help.)

Did you resent them?

No.  I never resented my parents for any of this diabetes stuff.  Not even when I wanted to convince myself that it was hard because they made it hard.  Diabetes is hard because it's diabetes.  Sure, my mom and I had blow outs about when she would say "We have to test our blood sugar," instead of "You have to test," but I grew to understand how much she was truly involved, even though I wasn't aware enough at the time. 

I've resented diabetes, though, which I know is hard for my parents to hear (and to read on this blog).  I do not like it, I didn't invite it, and I'd sell it to the lowest bidder without thinking twice.  I resent it for making me write To Do lists that a child has no right even worrying about, and I resent it now for making me feel for a kick from BSparl every time I have a blood sugar spike during the course of my pregnancy.  But my parents - my whole family and friends support team, honestly - have tempered that resentment for me by supporting me.  They don't coddle me, or tell me that "Things will be fine" or "Sure, you can go ahead and not care about diabetes."   They understand that this disease is serious.  And unfair.  And only sort of manageable.  But also that it doesn't have to own me.  It never has.  And it never, ever will.

What is one thing you could tell me to do that will make make this easier on [daughter's name]?

Blame the diabetes, not yourself.  Or your child.  Let her know that it's you and her against this monster, and you'll always fight beside her, not against her.  You're in this together, and she'll never be alone.

But Reader, you'll never be alone, either.  You've got all of us.   For the long haul.  :)

I wanted to give my answers to this mom of a little girl with newly diagnosed type 1 diabetes, but I also wanted to offer these questions up to you guys.  To get more than just my perspective, because so many of us have grown up with type 1 diabetes and might answer these questions in completely different, completely honest ways.  If you have insight to offer, please do! 

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 09:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (32) | TrackBacks (0)

With only a few weeks left to go before the baby arrives, Chris and I are starting to think past "just the pregnancy."  The focus is shifting slightly from "How do we manage this pregnancy" to "Okay - she's here.  … now what??"

A few months ago, we started to make some changes for the baby's sake.  We opened a savings account for our daughter.  We spent that one crazy day at Babies R Us registering for things BSparl might need when she arrives on the scene.  We spoke with our insurance company and talked about the process of adding BSparl to our plan.  And now - we're starting the pediatrician process.

As in, who is going to answer the questions about our baby's health?  Who will work with us to help keep BSparl safe?  Admittedly, I wasn't always the healthiest kid, my issues having nothing to do with diabetes.  Like there was that time I ended up with a splinter in my eye from a neighborhood "sword fight" using tree branches.  Or the time I was watching a movie when I was about 3 years old and stuck bread in my ear, just to see if it fit.  (It happened to fit quite nicely, thanks.)  Or … um, the time I was also watching a movie and decided to see if I could fit a raisin up my nose.  (The raisin also fit.  And it had to be extracted by a doctor at the emergency room.  And apparently I liked to put food in all the available spots in my head.)

Knowing what kind of bizarre things happened to me as a kid, I am already braced for when BSparl toddles over to me and tells me she fit four Cheerios up her nose.  So, like I said, Chris and I are starting to think about our pediatrician options.

I'm not looking for specific recommendations for doctors, but more the questions that you ask your child's doctor.  Do you interview a pediatrician like you'd interview a babysitter?  My OB/GYN suggested that Chris and I actually go meet a potential pediatrician and ask them a few questions, see how we feel about having this person as part of our child's life.  You know, get a feel for what it will be like to engage with this person.  So what kinds of questions should I be asking a potential pediatrician?  The ones that jump to mind don't seem right to me:

"Do you like children?"  (I'd hope so.)
"What made you want to be a pediatrician?"
"We have some chronic illnesses in our family.  What's your familiarity with diabetes, etc?"
"Do you like cats?"  (Not relevant.)
"Do you take our insurance?"
"How long will we need to call in advance of making an appointment?"
"How many fingers am I holding up?"  (Three.)

While I'm not worrying about whether or not my child will end up with type 1 diabetes, I do realize that there is a slightly increased risk.  And I want to have a doctor who is able to work with Chris and I through our decisions to pursue TrialNet, and other research studies, as we keep close tabs on BSparl's health.  So it's time to start putting together our questions and subjecting some poor soul to our curiosities.  

Any suggestions on how to find a pediatrician?  And do you know how many fingers I'm holding up?

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 09:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (63) | TrackBacks (0)