Sometimes life moves just so damn fast. I miss so much, rushing from one place to another, making sure I attend to every obligation. Too much coffee, not enough sleep, phone is ringing, writing to be done, meetings to attend, consulting, and a workout to squeeze in daily. How many hours are in this day? How many do I spend…
Sometimes I examine the minutiae of a moment until an ache forms in both my head and my heart. Waking up in the morning has my hand lazily grazing the black zipper case of my kit instinctively, making sure the second thing I do is test, only after upsetting the cat from sleeping on my head. Disconnect the pump and…
I didn’t always count the sips. I used to treat low bloodsugar reactions by chugging cranberry juice until it spilled down my chin and choked me just a little bit. That panicked, adrenaline fueled consumption, rendering me unable to close my eyes while I drink, but instead leaving me focused on that part where the ceiling and the wall merge….
I read Teks’ post tonight and felt very overwhelmed. Maybe that’s the theme of the O.C. of late. It’s been a difficult 24 hours out here in Rhode Island, medically speaking. I’ve been sporting moderate ketones for the better part of a day now. Changed the infusion set twice. Injected via syringe once. Haven’t eaten much due to fear of high bloodsugars….
I want a cure tonight. I want it so badly I can taste it tonight. It tastes like black raspberry ice cream from St. Claire’s Annex in Watch Hill, all creamy and cold. It tastes slightly salty, like my skin after a day at the beach. It doesn’t taste at all like airplane glue or sweaters on my teeth after a few…
Violet, of Pumplandia fame, has suggested that I republish my posts from Ye Olde Blog. This one is called “Perspective” and touches upon the delicate balance of diabetes and physical love. My body constantly makes its weaknesses known. I am embarrassed that, after you kiss me and run your hands down my body, that I have to disconnect the pump and…