Oh my panc is like big corn cob That crapped out one September; Oh my panc is like the laziest Of my endocrine board members So fair art thou, pain in the ass So much work that you don’t do; Yet I will love thee still, oh panc Till you go get a clue. Till you go get a clue,…
That’s Not My Pancreas!
Diabetes and Family, Diabetes Poetry, Psychosocial Support, Real Life DiabetesMy home is awash with children’s books, and I keep making the diabetes versions in my head. It’s a hard habit to break. Which brings me to today’s post, a parody of the “That’s Not My …” series of books that have taken over the little Guy’s bookshelf. This one is called “That’s Not My Pancreas!!” …
Beep, Beep, Beep!
Blood Sugars, Diabetes Advocacy, Diabetes Poetry, Diabetes Tech, Pumping Insulin, Robot LifeOne of my son’s favorite books is Little Blue Truck. We have that mess memorized and can bust it out even without the book pages in hand. And every time my pump beeps, I think of the little black pump on my hips at all times. These two thoughts ended up in my mental blender this morning, thus, Little Black…
I read a post on Facebook this morning about a mom who spent a few hours by her kid’s bedside, monitoring a low blood sugar and keeping the snacks at the ready. I thought about my own mom, who carried the bulk of the diabetes burden so that I didn’t have to, and how life felt normal because she made…
(Mr. Grinch, with an insulin twist. Sing along!!) You’re a mean one, Mr. Panc. You really are a heel! You’ve made me a pincushion, all those needles I can feel, Mr. Panc. You make me require boluses before every meal! You’re so lazy, Mr. Panc. Your islets are such shit! Your shape is all corn cobby and your betas all…
Getting into the holiday spirit? Today I’m revisiting the ghosts of poems past with Pizza (A Christmas Poem). Watch out for that pesky, fight-picking panc. T’was the night before Christmas and all tinsel’s in, Not a creature was stirring or making insulin. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care In hopes that my islet cells soon would be…
Dexcom rings Are you listening? On the graph Lows are blistering. A beautiful sight Is an overnight Walking in no-hitter* wonderland Gone away Are my betas Here to stay Is the data. My Dexcom alarms Protect me from harm. Searching for no-hitter wonderland In the meadow we can build an organ And pretend that he’s a pancreas. He’ll say I’m…
Revisiting some diabetes poetry this week while traveling. This one is a take on R.E.M.’s Everybody Hurts, only with an alarm fatigue component … * * * (With deep, deep apologies to R.E.M. and Everybody Hurts) Everybody Beeps When your day is long And the night, the night is yours for sleep. When you tuck yourself in…
Time to run round neighborhoods! Time to collect up sweets and goods! Tricks and treats and being merry And time for some to run commentary. “Um … can you eat that?” Yes, I can. I can unwrap this Twix bar, man. Can place it in my open mouth Can chew it up and send it south. These things? I CAN….
Mornings start with graph checks and then we’re off to live Not all D things are solid, but we continue, we forgive. Lots to tackle, lots to manage, lots to do in this narration Though efforts might end up a little bit Lost in Translation Details of the day go by in a flurry But I’m blocking all the chaos…
(in homeage to the Toni Braxton’s Un-break My Heart, and if Melissa Lee would just let loose with her version of this, that would be awesome.) Un-Break My Panc You left me when I was small Didn’t make insulin at all Come back and bring back my islets Come and take these syringes away. I need panc to work beta…