aiming for grace

save it for another day.

Isn't it interesting how sometimes life with diabetes just cooks along. It's not that I haven't had the occasional high at night or low during the day or anything. It's just that it doesn't seem to bother me much right now for some reason. I still don't like the putting my pump sites in my legs as much as my backside, but heh, what's the alternative? I've got to give my favorite sites a rest so there you have it. Sometimes that type of reality just bugs the hell out of me, but lately, it doesn't so much. Why is that? And how can I bottle it away, store it on a shelf to pull down on those days that I'm not feeling so cool?

Ah, well, I guess I'll just enjoy it will it lasts.

Photo thanks to artsyevie.

thanks to kitty.

My great friend gave me this perfect birthday gift. In the first place, we call each other kitty for some unknown (and totally entertaining) reason. Secondly, I love hello kitty. And lastly, my friend "kitty" has been one of my most supportive friends in terms of my journey with diabetes. So this thoughtful gift was the perfect storm of all of those things, and more.

Being seen with diabetes has always felt like an interesting balance act for me. How much to share, how much to keep to myself. I don't want to be seen as the sick girl, yet of course, I face challenges others do not. This has posed some awkwardness in my life in the non-diabetic world because I'm not always the most graceful at finding the right balance. And also others who don't have diabetes can be clumsy without meaning to. So, as I've said a thousand times, blogging, the OC, finding a voice here, has all made such a difference in feeling more visible, and in turn helped enormously with that balancing act I face in the "real" world.

So it's because I'm feeling more seen here, that I am so touched by kitty's gift. Having a non-diabetic (albeit a highly considerate and attentive one) give me this gift represents such a new day for me. My diabetes is seen by my friend, understood, made personal, funny and sweet, all in the light of day. A girl's got to have a bag to carry her diabetes junk in, so it might as well be a brown and bright pink, hello kitty one, all things being equal. My sweet friend hit the perfect note with this gift, and in the process, helped me to see that I'm not as invisible as I used to be.

And for that I will always be grateful to kitty, because after all, that was the biggest gift of all.

being thankful.

Even though I whine about my life at times (especially here), there is so much I am thankful for. So here's a brief list, in no special order. Counting what's good helps balance against what's not's so good, don't you think?

What I'm thankful for on this thanksgiving:
Love, my sweet husband, insulin, my lovely friends, the OC, my fabulous doctor, butter and parmesan, art, my wonderful pets Ruppert, Flora and Pearl, gardening, cashmere, the ability to vote, creativity, curiosity, generosity, the pump, interesting work, great writing, dedicated researchers and engineers, bedtime, morning, humor, hope and blogs.

And special thanks to everyone I've "met" this year and for all that you have shared and taught me. It has so comforted me knowing that you are all there. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

diabetes pictures.

The other day I blogged about the groovy flickr app that let's you to type in a word and then gathers all the images tagged with that word. Well I've been playing with the tool and LOVING it. It's so fun and it's amazing how many images of dogs or graffiti or embroidery that are out there. Literally hundreds of thousands of them. Interestingly though, there aren't hundreds of thousands of images of diabetes. There are barely thousands. Around 3,000 images to be exact. Now when I think about how many people have diabetes, my first thought is that there should be lot's more. But then I think, hm, maybe it's not the funnest thing to photograph. And frankly, once I'm done with taking care of all the stuff I have to take care of just to manage the disease, spending time photographing it is probably the last thing I want to do. It's much funner to photograph flowers or my cat or friends at a party, right?

But then I got to thinking. Maybe one of the reasons this disease is so invisible to the world, is because, well, it actually is invisible. Meaning it's not really captured or shown much. There's no real picture of it. 600,000+ images of dogs, 3,000 images of diabetes. Hm. Calvin's video moved me so much because I saw him, but I also saw myself in him, as I watched his story. It was visible to me through a media I'm totally familiar with. Film, video, pictures. As human beings, we're visually oriented by nature. Yet, if very few actual PICTURES exist of diabetes, how do others (or even ourselves for that matter) really SEE it. We've all commented on our blogs, in one form or another, that the act of making this experience visible has helped us immensly. Visibility does help. It helps me see my experience from the outside in. It helps me see others experiences and empathize, learn and be comforted that I am not alone.

So I've been thinking that I'm going to start taking a few pictures a week to try to capture and make my life with diabetes more visible. I'm not going to get hard core about it and say "I need to take a photo a day" (though I think that would be cool to see too). I'm going to start small and see where it takes me. At the very least it'll add some more visible images of diabetes to the 3,000 ones that already exist on flickr. It'd be cool, if anyone else out there wants to try this too. I'll set up a flickr set of my images and a flickr pool called diabetes made visible for anyone else who wants to add their pics to the pile. It could be an open source, collective type "documentary" of diabetes...or not. We'll see where it goes. We'll see what becomes visible. We'll just see, which is the point really.

"hey..."

beck keeps signing in my ear, "I'm a loser baby, so why don't you..." Well there's no need to go as far as the lyric goes, but regardless, it's what I feel because it's taken me forever to do it, but I've finally, officially signed up with the diabetes OC. What a loser, that it took me so long. I kept meaning to, forgetting, meaning to, forgetting again. Well I finally remembered and did it, so there it is. Officially. Gratefully. Happy to be part of this wonderful group of people who've made such a huge difference in my life.

diabetes pictured.

I have a love/hate relationship with technology. Especially with the ones that I have to wear in my body, but that's another story. This post is about the love side of technology. Check out this AMAZING app for the incredible site, flickr. Type in a word, like diabetes, and then watch the aggregate of all the photos from flickr that have the tag diabetes attached to it, appear before your very eyes. This is an amazing open source, democratic view of what people think when they add the tag diabetes to their photos. I think this is SO cool.

And of course, you don't have to just type in diabetes. Try flowers or birds or shoes. Oh my, there are billions of images out there, and some of them are very good. Flickr's a bit like Alice in Wonderland falling down the rabbit hole for me. But it's fun and it sure beats trying to watch CSI to relax!

more than a pretty pattern.

A thing means something to one person because of their past, their experience, their beliefs. That same thing means something completely different to someone else for the same reasons. Yes, context is everything.

Way before blogs existed, I'd channel my feelings about diabetes into an ongoing art project I started years ago. I took an old book and began to alter the pages with collages. Small, little vignettes about a feeling, or experience, or idea about my life with diabetes. Unlike blogging, these "posts" would be visual and non-verbal. Collages that were singular in their execution, but over time, also becoming pieces to a larger whole. What I discovered as I did more and more small collages, was the emergence of a powerful motif that deeply resonated for me. It was the repeat of dots, marks of blood, symbols of every needle stick, finger prick, pump set insertion. My life was full of tiny red dots. My body was covered with them. Self inflicted, "for the health of it", marks. I imagined my body becoming a graphic record of all the times I drew blood as I was being a "good" diabetic. Tiny, red dots all over my body.

I'm reminded of this because of the dress I bought yesterday at anthropologie. I was so excited that I'd found a dress that actually covered my pump. It's not so easy to find one that does this, so I was pretty happy. This morning I went to hang the dress up and found that it was wrapped in tissue paper in the bag. Pretty tissue paper. I unwrapped the dress, thinking I'd save the paper, to wrap up another gift later. As I was folding the paper to put it away, it slowly hit me how the pattern on it reminded me of the one I've painted and drawn and imagined for so many years. I'm sure the designer would have never known that this pretty pattern would have such meaning to someone like me. But there it was. The picture of my life with this disease. One red dot after another, some bigger, some smaller, tracing their way across the page, never ending, over and over again. It took my breath away for a moment because, you see, there it simply was. My life with diabetes.

Yes, context is everything.

tag, you're it.

Well it looks like I've been tagged thanks to scott. I've been out of town, so I didn't realize this until today. Sorry I've been so tardy!

5 random facts about myself:
1. The mornings are my favorite time of the day. The world feels full of possibility then. At night, not so much.

2. I love murder mysteries on TV. Miss Marple is the best, then Poirot, Inspecter Lindley Murders, Midsummer Murders, the list goes on and on. I prefer them British and in a series. I just love them. I'd watch them every night if I could.

3. I think that plain pasta with butter and parmesan is one of the perfect foods. I kind of feel the same way about toast with butter and parmesan. Obviously, it's the butter and parmesan combo that I'm enamored with. Totally perfect foods in my mind!

4. My favorite clothing items are white tee shirts, jeans and black shoes. I have way too many of all three.

5. Though I was badly bitten by a dog as a child, I love dogs with all my heart. Luckily, one bad incident didn't color my view of dogs forever. My dogs in particular and most dogs in general, bring me unending joy and happiness.

Everyone I would tag has been tagged, so I'm going to pass on passing this on. Thanks for the chance to share though.

backwards with heels on.

A friend of mine just got a big promotion. Man, she's earned it. 24 years of total dedication. I'm so proud of her. A shining example for us all.

Without knowing the future specifically, I'm aware that I may not rise to the highest heights in the company I work for. Certainly not as high as my friend. Which is OK but interestingly too, I've been feeling a bit, well, jealous. Or more accurately, I've been feeling a bit like a loser. Like, "what's wrong with me that I haven't reached the same glorious heights of leadership and power as my friend?" Beyond the sheer self-centeredness of this moment, I'm also appalled by my reaction. Why am I being so shallow and judgemental? Ick.

So I tried to tease it out a bit.

Now some of this is just what happens mid-career. Some people rise to the few seats at the top and others don't. And I certainly have not followed the same career path as my friend. The fact of the matter is, that while managing my career, I've also managed my health. I've worked very hard at both. Diabetes which has been my second job, while I've also been doing the first one.

Diabetes most certainly, does not perclude high levels of success. Quite the contrary. I think it can be the impetus to great things, in career, family and life. It's just that diabetes requires focus and attention too. We get good at doing our jobs and lives, while dealing with diabetes at the same time. I'm reminded of the old adage that is attributed to Ginger Rogers, refering to what it's like being a woman: she did everything that Fred Astaire did, just backwards and with heels on. Well frankly its the same with diabetes. We're dancing like all the rest of them, but we have a bit more to contend with because of those darn heels.

I was talking about this to my mom the other day and she said something that really made me think. She said that while I'm very successful at my job, I've also accomplished important things outside of work too. Now she meant stuff like my marriage, the volunteer work I do, my gardening and art. But what suddenly hit me was that I'd also been "successful" at diabetes. As successful as I could be. But nobody gives you a "vice presidency for diabetes compliance". We don't get a watch or anything for the milestones we reach with this disease. We get life. We get to be a part of the dance and while that is SO GOOD, it's also amazing how invisible the accomplishment of dancing with diabetes is to the world, and in this particular case, to myself.

Once I figured this out, I felt so much better. I realized that everyday we live our lives, as full, contibuting human beings AND as"vice presidents of diabetes". I realized that I felt thrilled for my friend and at the same time, fully proud at what I'd accomplished too. It wasn't about comparisons. It was about clarity. And with clarity about the full picture, my outlook went from half empty to half full in a flash.

All while dancing backwards, with sassy high heels on.

being prepared.

Thank goodness I was a girl scout.

I'm traveling for business tomorrow. The first time in a while. The first time since the new regulations about traveling with liquids and gels. It's time for me to dust off the perfect diabetes travel kit. I have a new letter from my doctor explaining all the junk, including liquids and gels, that I have to carry with me. So ostensibly, I'm set. And yet I'm sitting here, the day before, wondering what kind of security adventure awaits me. It's a habit I come by honorably from past experience. How early should I get there, I wonder? It could be a seamless process after all, with no one batting an eye when I mention my insulin pump, as I step through the security machine. Or it could be the blank stare, pulled to the side with lot's of questions kind of thing, like it was early after 9/11. Who knows. I'll just have to wait and see. And in the meantime, plan for all the possibilities. Be there earlier vs. later. Have the letter easily available. Be ready to pull out all my pump stuff and insulin. In a word, I will be prepared.

What's so classic in all this, is the fact that I'm even thinking about at all. On top of making sure that I have all the stuff I need to bring with me, all the back-up, contingency equipment and meds, I'm also having to think about security. I understand the why of it all. I get the realities of modern travel. What I'm struck with though is how, as usual, "regular life" is just a bit more complex, because of diabetes.

Yep, thank goodness, I was a girl scout a million year ago. Who knew that the be prepared motto we girl scouts live by, would be so useful later in life?