Chris and I are both from big families with piles of aunts and uncles and cousins at every birthday party. Part of being part of a flurry of people means big holiday gatherings, and Chris and I are prepping ourselves to start hosting some of the holidays.
Problem is, I’m a terrible cook. Or, better stated: an inexperienced cook. Cooking hasn’t ever brought me joy or satisfaction, and I’m not interested in the time it takes to perfect a recipe. I cook for form and functionality (read: make sure my family doesn’t survive on garlic salt and overripe bananas), not for fun. I’m not good at making the effort to learn.
But if we want to start hosting holidays, we need to learn how to prepare some of the main courses. Which brings me to the Practice Turkey:
Practice Turkey is currently taking up residence in our freezer, and my goal is to use him to teach myself how to properly prepare a whole turkey. (Sidebar: Animal is in our freezer because Birdy is afraid of him, but refuses to let us donate him or throw him out. She wants him in the house, but entirely contained. So he lives in our freezer and has been there about a year. I always forget that he’s in there, until someone comes over to visit, opens the freezer, and subsequently goes, “OOH!!”) In the next week, my plan is to practice my culinary witchcraft on Practice Turkey so that when we host holidays this year, I’m not in a huge panic because I can be all, “Oh, the turkey? I know how to do that. I’m all over that!”
I need to actually do it in order to make sure I can do it.
Same goes for technology hiccups in my diabetes management plan. I use an insulin pump and a CGM (hellooooo, disclosures), and with that convenience and data comes an influx of autonomy and the sacrifice of my autonomy, if that makes sense. The devices give me a lot of flexibility and freedom, but if I rely on them too heavily, I forget how to manage my diabetes on my own.
I need to be my own Practice Turkey, relearning the details of diabetes. I need to make sure I know how to calculate a bolus, check my blood sugar regularly by finger prick, and finagle basal insulin doses if my pump ever breaks, or if I ever want to take a CGM break, or if my will to wear devices breaks a little. And over the last week, I’ve been on a bit of a device break (thank you, winter skin issues), realizing once again that a refresher course on how to drive the stick-shift version of my diabetes (so to speak) helps me take better care of myself overall. Taking an injection before I eat makes me think twice about the food I’m putting into my body, and also help me remember to pre-bolus (because it’s a process, not just the push of a button). Using the treadmill instead of a correction bolus to fix a 180 mg/dL keeps exercise fresh in my mind. 3 am checks aren’t always necessary, but doing a few of them helps me spot-check my overnight basal rates. I appreciate my devices, but I needed a reminder on what they do for me, and how to continue to do for myself.
Practice (turkey) makes perfect.
[Also, today has been unofficially designated as a “day to check in” (hat tip to Chris Snider) with the DOC blogs that we’re reading. I read a lot of diabetes blogs, but I don’t often comment because I usually want to say something meaningful, instead of “I like your post.” (But I do like your post!) But instead of finding that meaningful comment, I usually roll on and forget to return to comment. NOT TODAY! Today I’m commenting on every blog I read, because that’s the name of the game. I love this community, and today I’ll show that through comments. So please – if you’re here, share what your favorite word is, or just say hello. And thanks for being here.]