The Camera Roll.
If I really tune in, there are quiet whispers (and sometimes GIANT SHOUTS) of diabetes everywhere I look. (And, for once, I don't mean that trail of test strips that seems to follow me around everywhere I go. Sorry, environment.)
Like in the Children's Museum in Providence, where a giant, rotating piece of art flows between a mermaid, a circus clown, and a unicorn.
Or the fact that my daughter's pajamas are covered in teeny, colorful cupcakes. (Also, she pretends to talk on the phone for long pockets of time. Animated conversations with the ether. I think she's prepping herself to be a blogger ...)
Or maybe because this morning I received (earned?) my first speeding ticket in seven years, and when the officer asked me, "Is there any kind of medical emergency I should be aware of?" the only thing I could say was "Stupidity?" (He also said, "The thing is, I couldn't catch up with you very easily." Not want you want to hear from the cop who is issuing your [deserved] ticket.)
Actually, the diabetes-related rub here is that my blood sugars were great when I left the house, but after being nailed for speeding, I've since shot up to 217 mg/dL and am holding steady, despite bolusing. The effects of stress on my blood sugars are direct and sticky. (Also, just for the record, my shirt is blue. Blue Fridays FTW?)
After a few weeks of feeling really tuned-in and de-sludging myself, I appreciate that diabetes reminders are everywhere. Sometimes I need them; helps me stay in control. But I don't always decide to notice them. Artwork at a museum can just be artwork. Pajamas are just pajamas. And the piss-poor driving decisions made by this mama are just that: piss-poor. ;)