With early morning “fun runs” (note: fun never equals run, as far as I’m concerned), non-stop Friends for Life sessions, business meetings, excessive drinking of both the Diet Coke and perhaps a shot of Patron or two (don’t judge – humans attend Friends for Life, too, you know), and a severe lack of WiFi in the Coronado Springs Resort down at Disney World, blogging was hard last week.
Actually, I barely acknowledged the Internet last week. Once I was back in my hotel room each night, I face-planted into bed instead of doing some writing. But it was amazing to be so present at this year’s Friends for Life conference, instead of concentrating on emails and other online messes. This conference was emotionally exhausting in the most beautiful way, and has completely and utterly revived my diabetes management. (FFL : diabetes defibrillator as fun : not running?) I’ve reconnected with some of my favorite diabetes family members, and met some new ones I have been itching to hug in person for months now. So much to think about, so much to say, and so, so much coffee is needed to process this stuff.
The words are still queuing up in my head, but today is a travel day, so I’m still not reunited with my office. However, while my blog collected a little dust last week, thankfully my camera did not.
As a person whose pots and pans are most often clean and covered in a thin layer of dust, meeting Chef Sam Talbot was mostly exciting because he’s tall, has type 1 diabetes, and enjoys a good cuss now and again. While I plan to purchase his cookbook, I am terrified to attempt the recipes and will most likely notify the fire station when I crack the spine of that book. But PWD FTW once again. 🙂
And this sad photo. Of me, stuck in the pouring rain in my CWD rain poncho. It started pouring in the Magic Kingdom on Sunday, and I didn’t notice. (I was fiddling with my cell phone while waiting for Chris – who flew down on Friday night to enjoy the weekend in Disney World with his frazzled wife – to finish up a phone call in a different area.) Then the sky opened up, and I ended up stuck underneath an awning for about 20 minutes, strategically positioned underneath a narrow window awning. Chris was across the “street” and safely in a shop, with several dozen people, all facing my soggy, soloist self. He tossed the CWD poncho across the alley like a life preserver, and people waved at me while I stood there – completely by myself and being pelted by raindrops – across the alley. Most awkward moment, by far, of the whole vacation.
I miss my PWD friends. And I can’t wait for next year’s conference.