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Posts from the ‘Diabetes and Emotions’ Category

Tuning Back In.

Feeling crummy is a slippery slope for me, in that acknowledging it is a healthy move, but if I cater to it, I’ll get sucked down the rabbit hole of feeling overwhelmingly crummy.  I’m not even sure that makes sense when you read it, but it does to me, so there it stays.

Three years ago, I went through a pronounced emotional slump and it was not my favorite time in life.  I am not interested in going back to that place, emotionally or physically, so I’m attempting to head it off at the pass.

Things That Help Immediately:

Exercising.  Sounds so simple, because it is, but it helps.  Being outside, either walking or running, helps my brain.  It makes me feel better.  Sitting around all day long and staring at my computer trying to make the writing thing happen doesn’t do much for me, but going for a run jogs my brain (ha – weak pun but a pun all the same) back into gear.  It’s like I physically require 10,000 steps in the day before my mind decides to get creative again.  Which is fine by me.

Paying Attention to Food.  When I’m in a crappy mood, I will drink coffee all day and maybe have a protein bar, but that’s it.  And that sucks, because my body needs more diversity/nutrients/how about a hard-boiled egg, motherfucker.  Cooking hasn’t ever been something I’ve enjoyed, but I’ve always liked eating well, and looking back at a day’s worth of food that isn’t dominated by iced coffee and the random Luna bar is a plus.  The better the food, the better I feel.

Engaging in the Moment.  I have a tendency to get tangled up in the to do lists in my mind, and the things I haven’t done yet eat away at me.  To the point of anxiety, which is ridiculous, because so many of those to dos are fun and things I like, yet they’re still stressing me out?  No, no, no.  When I’m on the slippery slope towards Crumbdom, I don’t enjoy the moments I’m in, but instead I fret about the shit I haven’t accomplished yet.  Again: no, no, no.  It helps if I make the conscious decision to ease up a little, like going to the zoo with Birdy instead of staying home and freaking out.  It also helps to hug my kid, and my husband, and the cats.  They are all warm and snuggly creatures, and they make me feel good.

I’m glad there are things I can do to help feel better, to shake off the ennui.  I feel better when I’m doing something, and best when that something involves my family.  I can’t change all of the things that are weighing heavily, but I can refocus on the things that bring me joy, damn it.

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad.

… you take it all and then you have Life With Diabetes (LWD?).  (This is all sung to the tune of The Facts of Life theme song, which is the earworm to end all earworms, as far as I’m concerned.)

I can’t remember where I first read this sentiment – I think it was on a #dsma Twitter chat – but it stuck with me.  To paraphrase: someone was feeling down about their diabetes management and couldn’t find solace in the Diabetes Online Community because everything they saw online was way too upbeat and it made them feel strange/sad/isolated because they thought they might be the only ones bummed out by the daily duties.  (Only they managed to say all of that in less than 140 characters.)

I’m kind of in those kinds of moments these days.  Even though I have 100 mg/dLs that I could take pictures of and post to Instagram, I don’t feel like it.  Can I just post a picture of my Dexcom graph and spell “BLARGH” in yellow, white, and red letters?  I’m not in diabetes burnout mode (numbers-wise, my rotten old diabetes is fine and dandy), but I might be in social media burnout and sort of over the diabetes thing and am also working through quite a few non-diabetes-related moments that aren’t causing any harm but are eating up a lot of my brain space.

That sentence was a disaster.  But I don’t particularly care.

Yeah, it sounds like vagueposting but it’s not. Not intentionally, anyway.  It’s more that it’s not that interesting and I don’t feel like talking about the bulk of it.   (Do you really want to hear about how I spent four hours boxing up clothes that my daughter had outgrown?  No, you don’t.  It would make you the mayor of Yawn Town, and me the Town Crier.)

I am a little eh about diabetes these days.  My meter average is fine and my insurance company continues to cover the same shit it has always covered, but I’m so meh and blah and YAWN about the whole thing.  It’s a whole lot of work with the payoff being to do a whole lot of work again tomorrow (and the next day, and the next) and it’s giving me run-on sentences.

It feels counterproductive to post Tweets that say, “Sometimes I have nothing positive to say.”  Or “I don’t like the way that focusing on diabetes makes me feel some days.”  I like playing the positivity card because it is usually how I feel and also because it feels better than throwing down the “diabetes can go screw” card, but – being honest – the positivity thing feels better because it doesn’t feed into itself.  If someone posts a “Hey, check out my no-hitter!” graph, the kneejerk response of, “Way to go, you!!” is easy to send out.  But someone posts:


… finding the right response can be a challenge and the silence can feed into the negativity. But it’s not all happy moments. There are some downer moments mixed into the flow of things, and not acknowledging them alongside the happiness feels disingenuous.

I don’t know. Diabetes can be an overwhelming little mess at times, and more often than not this week, I’d rather throw my meter after checking my blood sugar. And not because the result itself is crap, but because I’m low on the positivity thing as of late. I need a reboot. This morning, after doing some prep work for this week’s AADE conference, I didn’t feel like posting anything so my kid and I went to the zoo. Maybe I need more of that.

There’s no succinct end to this post. It sort of trails off because I don’t know what else to say. Other than hey. And blah.

Snapshots: Fell Off.

Until next time.

Tallygear Giveaway! Exclamation Point!

Tallygear is awesome, and I’ve been a big fan for many years.  After switching over to the Dexcom G4 continuous glucose monitor, I was so happy to see that Donna at Tallygear had created a case to protect the G4 (and have been using it daily since).  And now she’s up and running with a lot of new cases for the Dexcom G4 unit, as well as some other colorful ways to dress up the otherwise drab world of diabetes devices.

Check out some of her new designs!

Donna was kind enough to send some samples to me, and I’d like to turn that favor around to you guys.  But there’s a catch.  I have three Tallygear “gift packs” (in quotation marks because there are things from Tallygear that I’m including, but I’m sending the packages myself, so there will be some additional surprises to be determined by how much cat hair I can collect from Loopy and Siah … just kidding … sort of …) to give away, but I want to couple this up with the recent, and important, discussions about diabetes stigma.

To win one the Tallygear giveaways, you’ll need to leave a comment here on this blog post or Tweet about this giveaway (see the Rafflecopter widget below), but not in the “promote me!” sort of way.  Instead, I want you to answer this question:

“How will you help change the perception of diabetes today?  #dstigma“ 

As a community, we can help change the face of diabetes, one moment at a time.  Dealing with diabetes-related stigma isn’t something that can be “fixed” overnight, but every time we make diabetes visible in an accurate, educated way, we’re taking a bite out of stigma.  Kind of like McGruff the Crime Dog.  So let’s keep talking.

You can follow Donna from Tallygear on Twitter @Tallygear and on Facebook.  The official Tallygear website, with a complete product listing and a catalog of colors to choose from, is at Tallygear.com.  If you’re one of the winners, I’ll contact you for your mailing address (so be sure to leave a valid email).

And thanks for playing along.  I’m excited to see the discussions that have cropped up about diabetes stigma, and I hope to contribute to them.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The One About Broken Windows.

Tackling diabetes, one window at a time.

(See also:  caulk)

(And the second part of the CGM in the Cloud write-up will be up on Monday. A long night with a cranky Bird didn’t make for any decent writing. Thanks for your patience!)

Friends for Life: Madcap Recap.

A bulleted list because that’s what bloggers do.

  • My personal schedule had me running around like a chicken with its head (and pancreas?) cut off, and while I felt really lucky to be so busy, I didn’t have enough quality time with people I love.  It’s a nice problem to have, but it was frustrating because now that I’m home, I wish there had been long coffee chats with so many different people.
  • Coffee tastes best out of my new favorite mug –>
  • One of my favorite moments was during the Parenting with Type 1 Diabetes session, when Marissa Town and Melissa Lee started singing the Dexcom “ATTENTIVE” low alarm song, complete with facial grimaces and in perfect harmony.
  • It’s weird how therapeutic it can be to cry in a room full of “strangers.”
  • Even odder still is putting the word “strangers” into quotation marks because anyone living with diabetes has intimate knowledge of moments in my life that even my closest family members can’t quite wrap their head around.
  • It was so nice to meet the team from Kedz Covers, and yet so odd to meet them in Florida, seeing as how they live here in Rhode Island.  Only in the diabetes community do you meet your actual neighbors at a conference 1300 miles from home.
  • (And yes, that’s the “Don’t Mess with Rhode Island, Either” t-shirt, but I negated its awesome message by wearing my bag cross-body style, covering the little Rhody and making it look like I’m on the welcoming committee for Texas.  Whoops.)
  • The “Reducing Social Stigma from Diabetes: A Patient Perspective” session with Richard Wood, Kelly Close, and Adam Brown was one that I wish I had been able to attend, because the stigma related to (and nestled around) diabetes of all kinds is a topic that is very top-of-mind for me.  I’m looking forward to seeing and hearing more about this survey and have been stalking the #dstigma hashtag for feedback.
  • Watching Melissa pass the diaversary torch (so to speak) to Briley in the bar at midnight was a moment that made me laugh, but also gave me goosebumps because marking a diaversary can be intense, but doing it a room full of people who love you is fucking empowering.
  • It was an absolute honor (and wicked fun!) to partner with Dexcom last week, sharing stories and giving away copies of Balancing Diabetes. A huge thank you to Dexcom for their support, and also to the diabetes community for stopping by to say hello at the booth.
  • And thanks to Scott for lending me a pen to use at the book signings, which just so happened to be a pen from George’s office, making me feel like a little bit of George was at Friends for Life, too.  Full circle, there.
  • I loved being part of a session for parents of children with diabetes aiming to answer the questions they might not be asking their own kids, and it was an honor to partner with Adam Brown (of Close Concerns) for this session.  The discussions were intense, but productive, and for anyone in attendance who didn’t end up watching The LEGO Movie that night, here’s a link to what the hell I was talking about.
  • I learned that Scott, aka “Pockets,” keeps an army of diabetes (and non-diabetes related) supplies in his pocket.  The man is half kangaroo.
  • (Happy belated birthday, Pettus!)
  • After Friends for Life was over, Chris and Birdzone flew down to Florida to meet me and we spent a few days at Disney.  Getting ready to head out to the park the next morning, Chris asked why I still had my conference bracelet on.  “I like it,” was my response, because it’s hard to articulate what the green bracelet really means to me, or how the orange bracelets keep me going.
  • I still have my green bracelet on.  We walked through the Magic Kingdom and I found myself glancing at wrists around the park to see if anyone from the conference was there.  I didn’t see any green bracelets.  But I kept mine on in case someone was looking, too.
  • I still have it on now, only I don’t think the cats give a shit.
  • (Total sidebar:  It was Loopy‘s birthday two days ago, and Birdy and I will be making her a “cake,” which equals out to Birdy wanting to eat cake and this is her excuse.)
  • Attending Friends for Life is a place where I can wear my emotions on my sleeve and my pump on my hip.  It’s somewhere I can feel safe admitting the things that weigh heavily on my mind but also celebrate something as simple as a 100 mg/dL on my glucose meter.  And nothing reminded me of this more than when I was walking towards my next session and I saw Briley outside of it, tears streaming down her face.  “I just had my eyes checked.  And they’re totally fine!!  After twenty-five years, they are still fine.”  I couldn’t hug her fast enough, or hard enough, because that’s what you do.  You celebrate the things others would never think to celebrate, and you appreciate the people who understand.

 

Ante Up.

During one of the discussion groups at Friends for Life, one of the attendees took a look at their Dexcom, gave it an exasperated sigh, and threw it into the middle of the room in frustration.

“I don’t want it near me.”

There was a brief pause.

“Ante up,” someone quietly said, their own Dexcom case hitting the floor alongside the first.

And within a matter of seconds, a diverse pile of diabetes devices met in the middle of the floor in solidarity.

This is Friends for Life.

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