When I'm feeling particularly moody, I check the average on my machine to assess how things are going, diabetes-wise.  Sometimes I'm expecting a nice number and I'm rewarded with an average of 120 mg/dl or similar.  Sometimes I look at the meter screen through my fingers and see an average of 180 mg/dl screaming back at me. 

But until recently, I believed everything my meter told me.  It was my own little Oracle (like from The Neverending Story, which I have mentioned before and I still love).  Clean my hands, prick my finger, and act in response to the number revealed. 

Earlier this week, my meter was more Magic 8 ball than Oracle.

Using my OneTouch Ultra2 (the mini-meter is officially my "beach meter" and sits waiting in my backpack, along with the tampons), I tested on Wednesday afternoon to see how much glucose I was carrying. 

At 2:38, my meter blipped back with 121 mg/dl.  Ah.  Nice result there.

I am currently testing out the Keynote from Agamatrix, so I busted out that meter for a comparison test.

259 mg/dl.

Quite a difference there. 

Remembering the Hand Lotion Incident from this past winter, I trotted off to the bathroom to wash my hands.  Returning, I retested with the One Touch. 

2:40 pm:  244 mg/dl

2:41 pm:  118 mg/dl

Control solultion test at 2:42 pm:  115 mg/dl

2:43 pm:  210 mg/dl

2:45 pm:  Ask Again Later.  (Damn you, Magic 8 Meter!)

I'm silently screaming in my head at this point.  HOW THE HELL DO I TREAT A BLOOD SUGAR THAT WON'T STAY STILL?

The Keynote responds differently.

2:40 pm:  259 mg/dl

2:41 pm:  272 mg/dl

2:41 pm:  216 mg/dl

Control Solution test at 2:42 pm:  111 mg/dl

2:43 pm:  298 mg/dl

I needed a tie-breaker.  Calling upon one of the diabetics on the dLife Production team, I asked if I could snake his meter for a minute.  Having bailed one another out of several diabetes-jams over the last year, he was more than happy to help me out.  His BD meter spit back a crispy 252 mg/dl.

Okay, obviously I am high.  But I'm not particularly symptomatic, so what if I rolled on with the initial result from the One Touch?  I would have spent the afternoon in the mid-200's, all while thinking I was at a healthy 120 mg/dl.

I'm thankful that I was testing out the Keynote, otherwise I wouldn't have had the inclination to test again and find out that the One Touch was tossing skewed results again.  But my faith is shaken in technology at the moment.  Diabetes control is a moving target as it is, but to factor in technological misfirings in addition to my own wayward tendencies? 

OneTouch, you need to get your shit together. 

Posted by Kerri. at 12:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (31) | TrackBacks (0)

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All puns aside, the d-blogosphere has erupted into a flurry of support for Mr. Universe Doug Burns and his appearance in court. 

What's this?  Mr. Universe may be going to jail??

I spoke with Doug a few days after his altercation with the police, and his shock at the turn of events was tangible.  I mentioned that there had been dozens of bloggers taking a stand in his defense, press releases aplenty, and a general buzz of support in the community.  "This response has been overwhelming," he said.  "I have a tendency to brush things off, but this is different.  It's vital that people know about diabetes.  That they have the confidence to talk about it. ... I want to raise awareness of this disease."

We discussed the kind help provided by Ian the Paramedic, who wrote down his cell phone number and handed it to Doug, saying, "If they charge you, call me."  The conversation moved from the incident at the movie theater to that banter that slides in easily between two diabetics.  We compared diagnosis stories, gym experiences, and talked freely about how it felt to be diabetic for so many years.

And it dawned on me, as we were talking, that Doug Burns may be Mr. Universe but he's also just like the rest of us:  he's a diabetic, and he needed the assistance and compassion of his fellow man, not to be slapped with a lawsuit.  This could have been any of us.  And it may very well be in the future.  The time to take a stand is now.

Amy has done the dBlogosphere the service of providing the contact names and phone numbers for the District Attorney's office, in hopes that we, as a community, can get the DA's office to ditch the charges.  The numbers Amy provided are:

Chief Deputy District Attorney Steve Wagstaffe  (650) 363-4752 and Assistant District Attorney Morley Pitt (650) 363-4785. 

Call today.  Take Bernard's lead and call every day, until we make a difference.   Tell your friends to call.  Blog about it. 

To make a difference in Doug's life is making a difference in your own.

EDIT:  Vivian has provided quite an update over at her site.  The case is being dismissed! 

Posted by Kerri. at 08:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

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Memorial Day once again played host to The Duck Race. 

Last year, Chris and I reigned victorious with our "Mutant Rubber Duck #14" whale.  We won The Trophy (said trophy made it through Chris and I moving in with one another in RI, then the shuffle off to CT, and survived the spring cleaning where I tossed out everything I owned) and brought it back this past Sunday to crown another champion.

We went with old Whaley again this year.

The Third Annual Memorial Day Duck Race commenced with the starting gun (aka my brother popping a balloon) and the ducks were released!  My family lined the edges of the little brook that runs behind my mother's house and cheered on their ducks excitedly.

"Come on!  Come on ... whale!"

Chris's mother, making her Duck Race debut, turned to me and said, "If I win, I'm putting that trophy right on my mantle."

The ducks raced along the winding brook.  I scanned the water for my "duck," only to find him slightly water-logged and plodding along lazily and last.

"Ahh!  Chris!  We are last!"

From across the brook where he was taking pictures, Chris shouted back:  "Dead last!" 

We not only didn't win, but we came in dead last.  That orange whale came rolling over the finish line well after the trophy had been reassigned to my youngest cousin.  I plucked the whale out of the water and toweled him off.

"Don't worry.  There's always next year."  The whale wheezed out a mouthful of water in exhausting, plastic response.

EDITOR'S REMINDER NOTE: Have you caught the latest Stories over on Your Story?  Submit your own!

Posted by Kerri. at 08:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

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My work phone rings.

"Hello, this is Kerri."

"Hi.  This is Allison calling from Drugstore dot com about your order?"

Her UpSpeak is already killing me.

"Hi, Allison."

"Hi.  I'm calling about your recent order with Drugstore dot com?  I understand there was a problem with your order?"

"Yes, actually, there was.  I ordered a glucose meter and instead received a box of tampons.  Close, though."  I can't help but smile, despite my frustration.

Silence.

"Allison?  Are you there?"

"Yes?  Okay, I see from our records that you did not, in fact, receive your One Touch UltraMini glucose meter?"

Sigh.

"That's correct."

"Um, I will be sending out your meter today?  It will be shipped by UPS and will arrive second-day, as you placed the order originally?"

"So, if I'm hearing you correctly, the order that you guys screwed up will be arriving on Wednesday.  More than a week from when I originally placed it.  Is that correct?"

"Yes?"

"Allison, I planned on having this meter for the holiday weekend.  Instead, I am going to have to wait until next week?  Come on, this is a bit ridiculous.  I mean, you guys sent me tampons, for crying out loud, instead of a glucose meter.  While I think it's pretty damn funny that it happened, I do expect this matter to be rectified.  That means you'll be overnighting my meter.  I should receive it tomorrow, don't you agree?"

"Miss?  Um, it's our policy to ship the order the same way you originally placed it?  That means two-day?"

"Allison, the tampons you sent don't do much more for my blood sugar other than absorb it."

"Would you mind holding?"

She puts me on hold and I have to put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.  She clicks back in.

"Kerri?  Okay, we'll be overnighting your One Touch UltraMini meter?  It will arrive at your office tomorrow?  And you can keep the tampons as our free gift?"

"Terrific."

So the meter should show up sometime today.  And I'm keeping the tampons.  They're my free gift.

Update:  The meter has arrived!  And it's such a cool green color!

Posted by Kerri. at 10:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (28) | TrackBacks (0)

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On a tip from Jill, I was itching for yet another new meter.  Something about a jazzy little, fun-colored meter that I could stash in the car would satisfy my almost unquenchable thirst for gadgets.  (Remind me to tell you about the toasters, alarm clocks, and bicycles I would take apart when I was little, just to get a glimpse of the inside.) 

I spun around in the One Touch site and found the One Touch UltraMini. (Pink or green, pink or green ... I went with green.) Placed my order with Drugstore.com.  They sent me an email, confirming that my meter would arrive at work in two days.

I was excited to receive it, like it was a birthday present.  Silly diabetic.

And yesterday, the box arrived.

Like a good consumer, I checked the packing slip.

And I opened the box to find ...

Hmmm.  The box is about the same size.  The color scheme isn't entirely un-glucose meter-esque.  But damn, this definitely isn't what I ordered.

I emailed the Customer Support people at Drugstore.com:

"To Whom it May Concern,
I received my order from Drugstore . com today. Excited, I opened the box and expected to see the One Touch UltraMini glucose meter that I had ordered to help manage my type 1 diabetes.
I received a box of Tampax Pearl tampons, instead.  Are you kidding me?
I can be reached at [phone number], and I expect to be contacted immediately.  We're not talking about hand cream here - this is about disease management.
I am looking forward to hearing from you.
In the meantime, thanks for the Tampons. 
-- Kerri Morrone"

Still no response from Drugstore dot com.  My faith in them is dwindling ... but I do have these fancy tampons, if anyone needs any.  ;)

Posted by Kerri. at 08:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (38) | TrackBacks (0)

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After my shower last night, I sat in my bathrobe and primed the pump for a new infusion set.   Chris was home in CT for the evening, so we were chatting as I wiped the IV prep along my thigh and checked the tubing for pesky little air bubbles.

"Sure thing, I can bring you to the train station in the morning,"  I said, and the infusion set inserter sprang forth with a shunk and the infusion set needle dove into my leg.

Disclaimer:  Usually, changing my infusion set site doesn't hurt.  Most often, it's a little pinch and maybe a little bit of soreness when I bolus for the first time, but usually it's hardly noticable. 

This site change, however, stung like a sonofabitch. 

I pulled back the Quick-Serter and threw it on my desk.  "Be right back." 

Walked into the bathroom, gritting my teeth and feeling the infusion set imbedded in my muscle with every step.  I shut the bathroom door, turned on the overhead fan, leaned against the sink and let loose with a soft slip of the foulest curse words I could muster. 

After a few minutes, the pain ebbed away a bit and I could walk okay.  I went back in to the office.

"You okay, baby?"  Chris asked.

"Yeah.  Man, that infusion set was a nasty little one.  It stung like mad!"

Last night in bed, every time I rolled on my side, I felt the sting.  This morning when I bolused for my breakfast, it felt like fire.  But my blood sugars appear to be just fine, so it's not a question of absorption.  It's now become a question of my Stubborn Self, rearing her ugly head once more.  I could pull the set right now and replace it with the back up one I keep at the office. 

"You can't feel it now, Kerri.  You're fine."  Internal Motivational Speaker wakes up from her nap and stretches her arms over her fictional head.  "Just leave it until tonight and change it after you get back from the gym." 

I'll wear this insulin pump 24 hours a day.  I'll make it a part of my life.  And I'll even spend all that money on the blasted supplies.  But this sting?  This hot sting that makes me feel like I have an irate bee trapped in the leg of my pants?

Forget it.  It's not worth it.

I'm pulling the set at lunch. 

Posted by Kerri. at 09:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

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I see a lot of marketing materials from various diabetes organizations, publications, and websites.  The messages are varied, to say the very least.  They're all are asking for your support, most often financially, to either raise awareness of diabetes or march towards a cure.  That much is definite.

The variances are to be expected, though.  This disease doesn't follow many rules.

The curious thing to me, after having seen hundreds of these materials, is how different companies chose to portray diabetes.  Some companies show the 53 year old man sitting next to a dialysis machine.  Others show a small child, running in a playground, smiling despite their diagnosis. A crying child being injected in the arm with a syringe, clutching their teddy bear?  A smiling, healthy-looking person testing their blood sugar?  Or a sullen, sad person taking their medications as a tear of hopelessness runs down their face? 

Mixed messages ranging from "I can do anything!" to "I can't do a damn thing."  Ah, the many faces of diabetes.

I can understand the "pity ploy," because if you show the face of a small, hopeful child with their whole life of promise ahead of them, it's a bit easier to ask for money.  "How can you sit there and not help the children," sort of endeavor.  From what I've seen, people don't feel as pressed to donate towards a cause that shows images of people living healthy lives with diabetes.  It's the proverbial pain and suffering that draws people in and tugs at their wallet. 

It's just a strange thought that portraying myself - ourselves- as healthy people may actually keep people from supporting our cause.  "She doesn't need our help.  See, she's just fine with her insulin pump and exercise regimen and doctors.  She's fine." 

What these marketing documents can't convey is the constant thread of "make sure you" that runs through my mind. 

Make sure you bring your meter in case you need to test.  Make sure you have juice and insulin, for either a high or a low blood sugar flip.  Make sure you go to the doctor to have your A1c taken to keep you on track.  Make sure you have a job with good medical insurance so you can afford all the supplies you need.  Make sure you have friends and family who can support you on your journey with this disease.  Make sure you don't overindulge/undereat/over-compensate/under-estimate. 

Make sure.

I'm confused at times, because while I'm young and healthy and in control now, I wonder what my future will hold for me.  I hope I'll always be healthy.  But I'm never sure.  I can't really "make sure."  I can just keep trying.  And hoping.

Can marketing materials tap that uncertainty?  Can they show the efforts we put forth to acheive good health?  What kind of picture or tagline or template would they use to show our lives?

Posted by Kerri. at 12:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (17) | TrackBacks (0)

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The good news:  Chris is involved with a very cool film project for the next several weeks, shuttling him back and forth between RI, CT, NYC, and CA.  I am so proud of him that I can't keep the grin off my face even as I type this.

The off-centered news:  My fiance's erratic schedule does create a bit of a concern for me, as I'll be spending more time sleeping alone than I have in the past.  He's here one night, gone the next, away for a few days and then back for a few.  Aside from missing him while he's away working, there is that one small concern.

Yes, that whole "diabetes" thing.

I've lived by myself before.  It wasn't a big deal.  Managing the finances, doing all the shelf-hanging and furniture moving and garbage-taking-outing was more of an issue than being diabetic.   However, I took extra-careful measures when it came to preparing for emergencies.  I was, and have reverted back to being, the diabetic girl scout.

Be prepared, right?

Bedside table, stashed each night with glucose tabs, juicebox, a glucagon kit, my meter, and my cell phone in case I need to call someone?  Check.

Fridge filled with juice bottles, juice boxes, and some tasty gumdrop treats (Come on, you can't always treat with juice.  Sometimes a nice, chewy gumdrop makes the low a bit less crumby.)?  Check.

Contingency plan set up with my mother so that she calls me every morning around 8:30 am?  My office knows that I am staying alone some nights, so they are on the lookout for me and they also have my house number?  Check and check.

Internal pep talk about staying on task, being vigilant, and not letting any diabetes fear compromise how much I'm enjoying my job, my apartment, and my life at the moment?  Check. 

Discussion with Abby about the fact that Chris will be gone some nights, leaving her responsible for waking me up from any low blood sugars by drumming her massive paws on my head and mewing until I start to stir?  She and I touched base about it this morning.  Her lick of my hand confirmed that she was on board.  Check.

Sidebar discussion with Siah about being not being annoying, not climbing all over me while I'm sleeping, and not hiding out underneath the couch so she can leap out and attack my feet?  Check.  But that had nothing to do with diabetes.  That was mostly about Siah Sausage being annoying.

While Chris persues this incredible opportunity, I need to hold down the proverbial fort.  That includes making sure I'm safe and sound, so he doesn't have to worry about anything. 

Except for Siah.  That cat is completely unpredictable.

Posted by Kerri. at 09:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

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Too much going on.  Must let these thoughts escape before I lose track of them:

Baby turtles are back!  "The Food and Drug Administration banned virtually all sales of tiny turtles in 1975 after the animals were linked to salmonella infections in children. But a bill passed by the Senate last week includes an amendment that would lift that ban," according to NPR.  Do you think Bush will bother vetoing this one?

Also, I had my first plate of Thai food in the fantastic company of F.R. Jana last night, in a little restaurant near the NYC campus.  The food was tasty but difficult on my blood sugars - one plate of pad thai sent me up to 268 mg/dl, but I landed safely an hour later at 103 mg/dl.  The conversation was about travel and work and college, lightly laced with diabetes anecdotes.

On a much more serious note, the fatal crash in San Jose last summer has brought about a lawsuit now.  The article, on the San Jose Mercury News site, was sent to me by F.R. Nancy.  (Thanks for the head's up, Nancy!)  This is a very tricky case indeed, far less cut-and-dried ridiculous than the bit about the police officer and his pump controversy.  This article compares a low blood sugar to being under the influence.  In my opinion, driving should be relatively unchaotic for many diabetics, so long as blood sugars are monitored and snacks are at the ready.  And insulin should NOT be compared to drinking or illegal drug use.  However, people's lives were lost as a result of this situation.  It's confusing on a number of different levels.  I mean, what about the people who are on their cell phones and reading the paper and ON THEIR LAPTOPS while driving, for crying out loud?  That's true negligence. 

And finally, it's off to the races time after work, climbing on a train and heading to RI for the weekend.  I plan on sleeping for the entire train ride.  And, judging by the bags under my eyes and the empty coffee mugs strewn about my desk, that's not a bad idea.

Have a good weekend!

Posted by Kerri. at 10:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

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(I'm a bit delayed on this post, but it had to be told.  It's too ridiculous to not share.  And I promised Jenn I would.)

Mother's Day brought together various members of mine and Chris's family, gathering around a breakfast table at a little restaurant in South County, RI.  His mother, my mother, nieces and nephews, our brothers and sisters (except my sister was missing - we missed you, Court!), various significant others and one esteemed grandmother. 

Full table.  Lots of conversation.  We aren't exactly quiet people, so the noise level may have been slightly excessive.  There were 14 of us, after all, seated around this table.  Coffee was flowing.  Mickey Mouse pancakes were being devoured by little mouths.  I overheard the following exchange between my 6 year old nephew C and Chris's 5 year old niece MP:

C:  (excited bouncing on his heels)  So when Kerri and Chris get married, we'll be cousins.

MP:  (putting her hands up)  Awesome.

We may have been chatty, but it's Mother's Day, for crying out loud.  (If you are taking your mother to a quiet, romantic breakfast, you may need to rethink things.)  There was laughter and conversation and the beauty of two different families breaking bread together.

Our waitress, a woman who looked about 55 and spoke as though she had been smoking since she was in the womb, was walking by with the coffee pot when we heard her loudly address the table behind us.

"That's it.  That's enough!  You can get out now.  There are five doors - use one of them."

Indistinct mumbling from the table behind us.

"Leave!  Now!"  Hollering now.  Her rough right hand went straight to her hip and her left hand brandished the coffee pot as though it was Excalibur.

The couple at the table behind us violently drank down the rest of their coffee, wiped their mouths angrily with their sleeves, and filed out the door, shooting us dirty looks.

"What happened?"  Someone from our table asked.

The waitress pushed away the lock of hair that had tumbled loose from her ponytail in her fury.  "That woman was mocking you."  She gestured to my mother.  "And you, I think."  She gestured to me.  "She's a drunk.  And couldn't take that you guys were talking, I guess.  Every time you said something, she repeated it.  And then she started repeating me.  No one talks back to me.  So I told her where to go!"

That woman was mocking my mother?  And me?  Was there almost a Mother's Day brawl?

"What?  That lady?  If I had known, I would have gone right over there, sat down, and asked her what her problem was."  My mother puffed up and offered her words angrily.  (Keep in mind, my mother is five-foot-three and has hands that muss hair and cuddle grandchildren - she is hardly a bruiser.)

The waitress refilled a coffee cup.

"I know!"  She pointed at my mother and I.  "You, me, and you - we would have taken her outside and,"  She dropped her voice for the sake of the kids (who could hear her anyway but it sounded badass and dramatic regardless).  "Kicked her ass."

The waitress topped off the table's coffees.

"Yeah! We would have!"  My mother added cream to her coffee and stirred it in. 

"That's right, Ma.  We would have handled her!"  I wanted to add my voice to this chorus.  I'm tough, too, right?

I leaned in to sip my fresh coffee.  In my fervor, I forgot to add cream and Equal, so it tasted bitter and lava-hot.

"Oooh!  That's yucky." 

So much for badass.

Posted by Kerri. at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

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"I didn't see this coming at all," Hennick, of Gloucester, said, adding that he has been preparing to be a police officer for a long time and thought that because his diabetes was manageable, he would get a job. "For them to say I can't do it, it was heartbreaking."  (source:  The Boston Globe)

I received this article from Faithful Reader Maureen and I read it a number of times before my brain started to click into gear.  The thought process went like this:

"Okay, so they're giving him shit for wearing a pump.  Is it because it's an external device?  Reading on ... no, it seems to be because it means his diabetes is 'severe'?  Am I actually reading that correctly?  Did they just equate the use of an insulin pump with uncontrolled diabetes?  I hope that's not what they mean.  Maybe they're being paranoid about the pump breaking?  Or maybe they really are experiencing 'perception of a handicap that doesn't exist'.  Either way, I'm starting to feel a little miffed.  This guy is in good control.  And they let other diabetics join the force if they're in good control.  What makes this guy different?"

My brain becomes The Scrambler ride at the Washington County Fair. 

If someone told me "you can't do ______ because you have diabetes," I would most likely hit the roof and make it my MISSION to do whatever _________ is.  Granted, I'm not into flying planes or fighting wars or becoming a police officer, but to view diabetes as a limiting factor is beyond frustrating.  Particularly the perception that wearing an insulin pump makes your diabetes "more serious" or "worse." 

Oral meds, injections, pumps, exercise and diet ... whatever tools you use to manage your diabetes, do whatever it takes to keep things under the tightest control you can muster.

I just don't agree with some diabetics being allowed on the police force while others aren't.  I can't understand that.

What's your take?

Posted by Kerri. at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (25) | TrackBacks (0)

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Chris and I took a little jaunt to Boston this past weekend to visit with Shannon, Julia, and Julia's beautiful family.  (We missed you, Nicole!)  It was so nice - not too much diabetes-talk, but more like the reunion of old friends.

Ah, I love Boston.  We tucked in some lunch at the Purple Shamrock (where all items are renamed to sound Irish - hence my "Celtic Cob Salad" and Chris's "O'Hamburger," or some nonsense) and ventured off to the gardens.

On our walk, we saw a rainbow that was encircling the entire sun.  I've never seen anything quite like it.

We also saw some of Boston's finest:  The Macy's Fashion Police.  These girls were an atrocity - O and I had our fun mocking them relentlessly.  If this is your job, you should quit, because there is no need for you.  Seriously.  (Nice hats.)

After a ride in the Swan Boat (where we saw potentially plastic turtles, beautiful spring flowers, and Chris almost knocked Shannon off into the murky water trying to take pictures), we walked along the garden paths and there we saw it.

An old lady in the act.

Signs were posted everywhere - "Keep Off The Grass."  People complied, for the most part, but we watched as one old lady walked around the partition, knife in hand, towards a huge tree.  She leaned up and started to carve her name into the trunk, her friend coming over to help her.

"I'm getting this picture for evidence.  We're caught her red-handed, defacing Boston property!"

And as the shutter snapped, I realized that this old woman was carving her name into a tree for perhaps the last time in her life.  Her withered fingers held tight to the knife, despite her shaking hands, and she chipped away at the bark. 

It was a minute where I felt young and foolish, making jokes while this woman was etching in one last moment of her life.  From her gentle hands to her baby blue socks, if I close my eyes I can hear her asking her friend,

"Help me reach just a bit higher.  I want to make sure people can see it."

Posted by Kerri. at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

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Last Friday, I couldn't believe my eyes.

10:34 am:  358 mg/dl

10:34 and a half am:  259 mg/dl

10:35 am:  189 mg/dl

(Fragile readers, cover your ears.)

What the fuck?!! 

Between the highest and lowest results, I'm seeing a difference of 169 points.  To correct down from 358 mg/dl, I need 5.4u of Humalog.  To bring me down from 189 mg/dl, I need 1.7u.  That's 3.7u difference.  That's either remaining in the crispy 200 range or ending up a mushy puddle of hypoglycemia on my office floor.  How exactly am I supposed to keep my blood sugars in check when I can't accurately check my blood sugars? 

I have HAD IT with this meter.  I changed the batteries.  I recalibrated the machine.  I used control solution (which could have been a bit-outdated, but still came back within range).  I thought about chucking the meter against the concrete floors here at dLife and watching it smash into a million pieces.  I thought better of that last idea and instead wondered if running over it with my Jetta would be more satisfactory.

I was one pissed off diabetic.

Placed a call to my doctor. 

"Hi, this is Kerri Morrone.  I need a prescription for a new meter."  Realizing that I have a closet full of One Touch test strips at home and reluctant to dance for the insurance companies in hopes of them filling another prescription for 1800 different strips.  "Can she write me one for the One Touch Ultra 2?"

"No problem.  We'll call it into your pharmacy now."

Upshot to my lunch break, when I hoof it over to CVS and pick up my new meter.  Cracking it open impatiently in the car, I whip out my old meter and do a test, aiming to compare the results of the new meter against my now-defunct meter.

Guess who only has two test strips for the rest of the afternoon and can't waste strips on a test comparison?

Arghhh ... diabetes frustrations aplenty to end out last week.  However, once I got home and compared the results of the two meters, they were almost exactly the same.  Was it just a fluke?  Just a chaotic chance event?  Something purely to piss me off and make me think I'm going out of my mind? 

Either way, the weekend was busy, but excellent.  A swan boat ride in Boston, an evening chatting with my college roommates, and the most bad-ass Mother's Day breakfast waitress in the history of mankind. 

More on that tomorrow.  :)

Posted by Kerri. at 08:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

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If living with a chronic illness gave people superhero powers, it would explain Jenni Prokopy of ChronicBabe.  Jenni, creator of the empowerment resource ChronicBabe, wanted to "provide an online community for younger women with chronic health issues who want to live their best lives."  And she definitely did.  When she's not promoting her site, traveling to conferences, and bringing sexy back to women living with chronic illness everywhere, she takes a few minutes for a Six Until Me interview.

Kerri:  What prompted the dawning of ChronicBabe?  And how did you make this dream a reality?

Jenni of ChronicBabe:  I started ChronicBabe as a blog. After many years of living with chronic illness, and finally feeling like I had it mangaged well, I was eager to be the resource that I never found. Especially around the time I was diagnosed, I couldn't find good resources that weren't depressing and/or horribly dull medical stuff. So I created ChronicBabe to be, well, like I try to be: irreverent, hopeful, funny, creative. A friend who's a web designer/developer offered to set it up for me, and ChronicBabe was born.
 
Now, we have ChronicBabe 2.0 - the redesigned site, which has many more features and room to start including ads, and selling information products (ebooks and teleseminars, etc.) so I can start really making a living doing what I love.
 
Kerri:   What kind of feedback have you received from your readers?

Jenni:  The feedback is incredible. I rarely hear negative stuff; mostly, it's women who write in with stories of hope and gratitude. I get at least one message every day thanking me for creating a resource that's different from everything else out there - for helping them feel heard, and understood. And for being funny, because so many health sites are so darn serious! Those messages are often very moving, and they keep up my spirits on those big flare-up days when I don't want to work.
 
Kerri:   If someone told you, five years ago, that the internet would be one of the biggest support venues ever for people with chronic conditions, what would you have thought?  Has the internet revolutionized your own disease management style?

Jenni:  Nope. Five years ago, I thought almost all the health information online was crap. It was mostly "online brochures" for medical associations, and forums where people whined and complained. It's incredible what blogging has done for online health resources. Now we have big, great sites like WebMD and RevolutionHealth and others, and it's clearly the new direction. And we have blogs and forums where people talk solutions and share resources. It's an incredible shift.
 
The internet has only changed my own disease management style in the sense that now that I'm out there, talking about my health and preaching certain approaches, I feel like I'm accountable - that I have to do as I say. So it's a sort of self-imposed effect. And it certainly is easier to get reputable information. But overall, I'm sticking with the same methods today as I have for years.
 
Kerri:  There was Life BCB:  Before ChronicBabe.  How has life changed for you since starting on this adventure?

Jenni:  Wow... lots of change. My whole career has been tipped upside down! Instead of writing about construction all day, which I didn't love but was very good at, I now write about health and women, which I love. I feel personally connected to my work in a completely new way, which is great. My readers keep me feeling "wanted" - I know what I'm doing is worthwhile, has helped lots of people, and that's very motivating.
 
I also feel braver than ever. Jumping out of my old career track and risking everything to start something new is very scary! I'm still not where I want to be with it, but I'm on track, and I'll get there, no doubt. That risk-taking is great for me - it's made it feel easier to risk in other areas, which is wonderful for someone like me, who has anxiety and used to be afraid of TONS of stuff.
 
On a superficial level, friends tell me I look healthier and younger. I think it's because I'm happier, even when I'm stressed. I love what I do and that shines through, I think. Because I haven't changed anything else or had work done, I swear! :)
 
Kerri:   What's the takeaway message that readers should find in ChronicBabe? 

Jenni:  That even if you're a sick chick, you can still be a Babe. It's all in your state of mind! You have to make the decision to do something good for yourself, and give yourself the space and time to grow and learn new good habits - and nurture your sense of humor. No matter how sick you are, you CAN find happiness and success.
 
Kerri:   Jenni, you're given the keys (?) to fire up the Six Until Me Hot Air Balloon.  What do you chose to fly over?

Jenni:  Iceland. I'm a huge Bjork fan, and I've seen lots of photos and footage of her native country, and it looks absolutely stunning. I would love to vacation there and just drift over all the volcanos and glaciers and hot springs and valleys and ocean and mountains - it's all so gorgeous and I think it would be both serene and thrilling at once. And I'd probably have to follow Bjork's lead and sing really loud as I flew over a volcano or something.

Thanks, Jenni!  Be sure to check out ChronicBabe 2.0 and all the new features!

Posted by Kerri. at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

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There are many of us who blog about diabetes.  (Thank goodness - for years, I was wondering where all you guys were hiding.) 

I've been fortunate to have this blog as my soapbox, venting station, and outlet for sharing diabetes moments.  The effects blogging has had on my life are tremendous and having the opportunity to share my story has made me stronger.  This community is the best and has made such a difference in my diabetes life.

However, there are so many more who may not have the time to blog.  Maybe they are reluctant to share so much of their life online.  Perhaps they just need a few minutes to "aaaarghh!" or ask questions or connect with other diabetics ... or just plain tell their story.

I've put up a section of Six Until Me. called "Your Story."  It's for people who want to share their story - or questions, poems, pictures, videos, frustrations, successes ... you get the picture - with the ever-supportive blogosphere.  You send it, I'll post it.  It's easy.  And it could be fun.

Are you living with diabetes?  Do you have a child with diabetes?  Your husband?  Mother?  Your girlfriend?  Your uncle or aunt?  Maybe even your cat?  (Oh damnit, Siah, stop playing with the keyboard.  Man, you are annoying.) 

Do you want the chance to tell your story? 

Share your story by sending it to story@sixuntilme.com.  

Posted by Kerri. at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

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Jill - a kind, Faithful Reader from California - and I have been corresponding by email for the past few weeks.  Her beautiful family and remarkable tale of making sure the glass is always half-full was something I couldn't resist sharing with you guys.  (And her son is adorable.) 

"Making Lemonade out of Lemons.

Allow me to humbly share my journey in life with diabetes.

In 2004, when I was about six months pregnant, we found out I had gestational diabetes. First, it was overwhelming and took it day by day. We got creative. The only thing I had a really hard time was inserting insulin shots on my big round pregnant belly, afraid to have the needle touch the one in the oven. After a few shots, the diabetes center called "Sweet Success" showed me a picture graph of the how the needle won't touch the baby. That the needle is so very tiny. They were so great and we were so appreciative. I wasn't so nervous after that when did insulin shots. Three months passed and our little guy, Ryan arrived in our arms on October 25, 2004. Life is extra good. The doctors during this time informed me that I have about a 50% chance of getting diabetes back.

A year later we moved to the Sacramento area from the San Francisco Bay Area. The summer and early falls were so warm. I found myself always thirsty and felt like I wanted to drink a gallon of water. I thought it was due to Sacramento's dry air, tired (I dismissed it as mommy tiredness) and started to go to the restroom a lot. The symptoms were feeling awfully familiar. It was either being pregnant again, thyroid problems or did the diabetes come back?

After lab tests, we found out I had type 2 diabetes, my heart sank. I needed to grieve just a tiny bit before moving on. After I grieved, I was saying its not the end of the world and things could be worse. I was glad I had the experience of what to expect when I had gestational diabetes. I decided to make lemonade out of lemons, something I was familiar with growing up.

I was born profoundly deaf, my parents found out I was deaf when I was three. My family is great, they accepted who I am and did not treat me any differently with my older two siblings. They did not pity me, accepting me as an equal. They didn't see me having a 'disability'. We all have 'disabilities' in one way or another. Each person is unique, and programmed differently. My dad was saying the eyeglasses for his eyes were a tool, as were my hearing aids tools. My nephews, when they were toddlers, they were looking sad, that Auntie Jill is deaf or have broken ears. My dad without a beat, started the second generation of his wonderful philosophy, "There is nothing wrong with Auntie Jill, do not need to feel sorry for her, here's my eyeglasses, these are a tool that helps my eyes." he said. My heart just warms up remembering his words growing up. This is one example of how my family boosted my self esteem growing up.

...and I have been making lemonade since age three. So I applied those tools easily on to diabetes. Take one day at a time and try to be creative. And to continue to live life to the fullest. Life is too precious. It is all up to us to see if half full or half empty. Sure I have moments when I am very human. When we fall, I would jump back up, brush the dirt off my knees, and move forward. I appreciate the simple things life has to offer. To name a few...the colorful sunsets, our  son chasing us with the water hose, laughter until our stomach hurt, sharing heartfelt stories, seeing the fall leaves changing back East, and the unconditional love of hubby, son, family and friends.

Life is still extra precious.

Jill E."

If you want to share your story, send me an email at kerri @ sixuntilme dot com.  I'd love to hear from you!

(Sidenote:  And today is my mom's birthday.  Happy Birthday, Maaa!)

Posted by Kerri. at 09:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

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So we're strolling along in Madison Park when we see a crowd of people gathered around a patch of sidewalk.  This skinny, balding man was fluttering around like a moth- first his papers in his hand, then a camera, then his pastels, then his own head.

"Holy shit, that's that guy."  I grab at Chris's sleeve.

"What guy?" 

"That guy!  The guy who does the 3-D sidewalk drawings.  Like the one of the laptop.  And the one where he's jumping into a pool of water."

"Who?"  Chris asked.

"There's an email forward that has been going around with all the pictures.  You haven't seen it?  The guy's name is Julian Beever, or something like that."

"I don't think so.  Hey, is he drawing Transformers?"

We leaned in and investigated.  I took pictures but since I wasn't at the correct vantage point, the true forced perspective isn't shown. 

Still blew my mind a bit, though.  We also caught a picture of fluttery Mr. Julian Beever himself, directing the traffic in his mind.

I know you guys have seen Julian Beever's drawings before - one of you may have been the one to forward the email with his pictures to me in the first place!  Chris and I went online when we came home and Googled him up - sure enough, we found a bevy of chalk drawings that were simply amazing to look at.  This Batman one from his website is simply astounding. 

** Hey Batman, this one is for you! **

Days like these help to keep the diabetes burnout at bay.  I think I just needed a little break from the blood sugars and all that garbage.  Visiting NYC helps.  As do 3-D sidewalk drawings.  I wonder how Siah Sausage would look as a sidewalk drawing? 

Posted by Kerri. at 08:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

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Chris and I hopped on the train, bound for New York City and ready to spend the day exploring the city and enjoying the fantastic weather.

We started out the day visiting friends on the lower East Side.  After lunch in a cafe that had their huge, streetside windows wide open, allowing the spring air to come skipping in, we walked around Chinatown a bit.  We also saw what was claimed as Moby's building, where our friends told us that the blue fish and the octopus on the side of the building were painted by Moby himself. 

After lunch, Chris and I headed off to 14th Street and explored Union Square park, where the flowers were in full bloom and absolutely gorgeous. 

And I could not resist frolicking in the tulips.

We explored Madison Square Park, as well, and found what appeared to be two baked potatoes in their natural habitat.  (What the hell are these things?  Art?  I'm so confused.) 

I also stumbled upon a very handsome man, sitting contemplatively in front of a statue of William Seward.  Oh wait, that's my future husband.  (Can't.  Stop.  Grinning about it.)

Fruther in Madison Park, we saw two enormous metal "battle trees" created by conceptual artist Roxy Paine, part of a public art series.  Very impressive.

After dinner at The Crooked Knife on 30th Street (delicious food here, by the way, and fantastic bathrooms.  I would like to model the bathroom in my home after the one in The Crooked Knife.), we trotted around Times Square for a spell, enjoyed a hot cup of coffee, and hopped back on the train for home.

And for tomorrow:  Our NYC 3-D Experience.

Posted by Kerri. at 08:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

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Two years ago this morning, I wrote my first post.  The next day, I wrote another one.  And another.  And another ...

Today marks my second blogging anniversary (blogaversary?) with Six Until Me.  I've been a proud member of this community for two years now, subjecting you guys to my ramblings for seven hundred thirty days.  Three hundred thirty-three posts.  (333? Larry Bird!)  Four thousand, six hundred fifty-eight comments.  That's a sizeable smattering of little Siah Sausage, (mis)adventures with Larry Bird, freelance excursions, laughs, family fun, new career endeavors, relationships, and all these diabetes moments.  You have let me share it all with you, and I am forever thankful.

It's been a true pleasure blogging alongside you guys for the last two years.  Blogging has given voice to some of my deepest, fearful questions and had them comfortingly answered with "Me, too."  It has given me a way to teach my friends and family about diabetes without having to say anything at all.  And it's given me a huge support team with whom I can share my victories, like yesterday when the retinologist shined the light into my eyes, patted me on the shoulder and said, "Kerri, your eyes look excellent.  I can barely see any sign of damage." 

Thank you guys for making blogging such an important and supportive part of my diabetes management.  And thanks for putting up with my silliness for the last two years. 

Posted by Kerri. at 09:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBacks (0)

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Nightly Discussions in the Morrone/Sparling Household:

1.  Explain Donkey Kong.  When people were naming this game, how exactly did the "donkey" part fit in?  You have a big gorilla who throws barrels, a captured princess, and a guy trying to save her by climbing complex ladder structures and dodging barrels and fire.  Of course it should be called Donkey Kong.  Makes perfect sense.

2.  Same with the Vlasic Pickle stork.  Storks bring babies and eat small fish.  Pickles are rogue cucumbers tossed in brine.  Is this the whole "pregnancy is to pickles as storks are to babies" thing?  Confusing, nonetheless.

3.  Hyphenating vs. Not Hyphenating.  After checking out an article on the Email Experience Council (don't ask), a discussion erupted about how I would handle my married name. 

My logic is all over the place on this one:  I want to be traditional and take my husband's name (Kerri Sparling), but what about my name that I like so much (Kerri Morrone)?  Okay, so I could hyphenate (Kerri Morrone-Sparling) but then that could be further mangled (Kerri Moron-Sparkling).  How about Kerri Sparling and writing under Kerri Morrone? 

How about getting waaa-ay ahead of myself and worrying about bizarre details that don't need to be bothered with for months?  Check.

4.  I have another follow-up appointment for my eyes this afternoon.  It never fails that my dilations are on days when the weather is bright and sunny.  I have my big ol' sunglasses at the ready and I'm ready for the drops. 

Thanks to Johnboy, I'm considering this less of a doctor's appointment, and more of an experiment in visual media.  ;)

Posted by Kerri. at 12:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (15) | TrackBacks (0)

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The phone rings.

Kerri:  Hello?

Larry Bird:  Hey Kerri.  What's  up?

Kerri:  Dude, I haven't talked with you in ages.

Larry Bird:  (laughing) Yeah, well I've been working on a new workout for you.  I know you've been working out really hard lately.  What's with all the focus?  Did you get engaged or something?

Kerri:  (almost spits her coffee out, giggling)  Larry!  Come on!

Larry Bird:  Of course I already read it on your blog.  Well, congratulations to you and Chris.  So anyway, I've been thinking about some different ways you can mix up your workout, starting with that cardio routine.  Are you still jumping rope?

Kerri:  Ah, not as much as I was before.  But I'll reinstitute that tonight.  I've increased the incline and speed on my treadmill circuit, though.  Still at 33 minutes, of course, Mr. Bird.  But I'm looking to tone up my arms, too.  Any suggestions?

Larry Bird:  Well, try those tricep kickbacks I told you about.  And the tricep dips.  Do your best not to fall over.  I know how clumsy you are.

Kerri:  (blushing furiously but it's a phone call and he can't see it)  I do my best.  I'm just awkward. 

Larry Bird:  No trouble, Ms. Bride-To-Be.  Try those exercises and your tri-s will be fly in no time.

Kerri:  (pauses)  Larry, that last part was ridiculous.

Larry Bird:  I know.

Kerri:  Okay.  Well, thanks for checking in. 

Larry Bird:  Keep it cool, Kerri.  And by the way, thanks for sticking to the 33 minutes of cardio.  You're like the new Eric James Torpy.  Later.

Click.

Posted by Kerri. at 01:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

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Burnt out.

Tired of testing, bolusing, calculating, exercising, eating, and caring.  If I was less Kerri, I would toss it in, go pick up a cheesecake with strawberry topping, and eat the whole thing in my Jetta.  No fork - just digging my hands into it and getting cake all over my pretty ring.

Ah, just thinking about it makes me feel fat and happy.

However, I am very Kerri.  And instead of viewing diabetes as my arch nemesis, I need to view it as my partner.  A business associate?  My sidekick?  The Gromit to my silly, smiling Wallace.  Diabetes can't be changed.  It can't be hated, either.

Instead, I tolerate it.

This is reality.  My Gromit is going to stay with me for the rest of my life, barring a cure.  Anger doesn't do much for me in the long run.  Frustrations ebb and flow but in reality, those moments of burnout are fleeting.  For me, it's about acceptance.  Healing.  And realizing that it's okay to make mistakes. 

It’s living life on a see-saw.  Some days you are way up high and other days have you almost in the dirt, both literally and figuratively.  The constant fluctuations of blood sugars are just that – constant.  The aim of diabetes management is to have that see-saw perfectly balanced so that neither side is tipped in any way. 

Admittedly, it is a nearly impossible feat to accomplish and still have a life worth working so hard for.  Quailty vs. quantity is the life-long debate.

I would give it up if I could.  I would send it back from whence it came without a single thought.

Diabetes doesn’t define me.  It never will.

But I can’t let myself hate it, because it is a part of me.  A part that I work so hard to maintain.  And to hate one single part of me could become an infectious disease that bores its way into my psyche.  I am living with diabetes.  And I will continue to live successfully for as long as I can.

So, Gromit.  (Dia-Gromit?)  It's you and me.  We're in this together. 

Let's go get some cheese.  It's low-carb, after all.

Posted by Kerri. at 12:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

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