Tuesday, May 13, 2014

High Low


High, low 
Medium, slow
Jolly old peppers

More, less 
Some more finesse?
Never knowing, always a guess

Up, down
All around
Roller coasters, playgrounds, numbers abound


This is my submission for Poetry Tuesday - #DBlogWeek Day 2. I can't say that I was a poet, and didn't know it. I mean to show no disrespect to the bonafide poets out there. 



It's All About Communities

I've spent a lot of time recently reflecting on what things matter to me. If one were to read this blog, one might think that diabetes means a lot to me, and true enough, it does. I think that as we read the many amazing blogs written by amazing people, many of which can be accessed through the #DBlogWeek hashtag on Twitter (or join in the blogging fun yourself), one can easily get this impression. 

Recently there has been a loss in our lives, and this sad event has led me to reflect on what really matters. For me, first and foremost, it's family (and yes, I include my fur family as well). It's about friends. And it's about community.

This post is about community. And there are many kinds of community, but it all comes down to taking care. 



Our neighbourhood community is a place where people come together to raise their children, a comfortable place to come home to after a long day's work. After watching some bored kids last summer, I built a Little Free Library which now sits at the edge of our yard. To this point, it took a community of believers - business people in our area - who helped make this happen in the first place. Because I reached out, they donated the box, some books, and effort, because I do not have building skills!

But now I've seen neighbours visit from blocks around, to 'borrow' books. I've met many new people, and the LFL has become a conversation starter of sorts. People visit and might drop off a book or two (or an entire Danielle Steel collection!) for others to enjoy. I've seen little kids come by, bookbags in hand, with a mom or a dad. Older kids excitedly show their other friends. In only a few months, this little box is now a touchstone in our neighbourhood, where kids and adults come together to discover (and rediscover) the love of reading. 

If you have found this blog post, you are likely already familiar with the Diabetes Online Community (otherwise known as the DOC), and it is important to me because when I have questions, want to vent, or need support, the DOC has been there for me.

It is a virtual place - a social media phenomenon, but not in any one place. On Twitter you can find it by searching hashtags like #DOC or #dsma, but there are many more (just ask if you want to know more). There are diabetes community websites (like TuDiabetes or Glu), and blogs like DiabetesMine sharing experiences and information. It is made up of many people from different backgrounds, divergent interests and many countries come together to ask questions, support each other, share information, raise awareness, advocate, laugh at some things, and offer a kind shoulder to those who are hurting.  

We should be aware though, that our communities need care. As much as they are a way to come together and a uniting force, they can be divided. 

Just last week, I had come home to my Little Free Library to find that somebody had launched a rock through its little window. Instead of being disheartened by the disrespect (well, I was for just a moment), I cleaned up, took the opportunity to re-organize the books. I also discovered what one can do with a large Ziploc bag and some packing tape to repair it to it's almost former glory. It's back in business, and when I get to the hardware store again, I will be able to retire its Ziploc. 

When we deal with people - as with the DOC - as much as social media encourages talking, we also need to remember to take a moment, step back, and just listen. Over the past year, I've made the mistake of not listening, and have lost a friend. We need to keep our minds open to other viewpoints, an eye out for those struggling, and especially for those who may be feeling lost or abandoned. Sometimes it is a lone voice - a single tweet. We should remember to reach out with a kind word.

Also we need to remember that as a group, we are quite a force to be reckoned with. Our collective voices have power, and we've certainly been noticed in certain circles. We can harness this force for the good, and I hope we continue to do so. But we cannot forget the smaller voices out there. 

One day, long ago, I was that small voice, and now I'm part of a community that is larger than me. I'm proud to be part of it, but it always need to be looked after.

Just like that Little Free Library on our front lawn.

The Little Free Library opens for business!


This is my submission for Change the World - #DBlogWeek Day 1. Although I don't expect to change the world, but if I can just reach out to a person or two along the way, I will have succeeded. 






Leaving Pawprints Behind


Dear Rocky,

You were a good cat. You were one of the inspirations for this blog. You had a big personality, and a bigger heart, even if you didn't always show it.

May you find the things that made you happy, like:

  • Lots of things to push off the table onto the floor like plastic fruit, diabetes supplies and satellite radios
  • Drinking water from Mom's water glass
  • Daily treats of chicken or salmon 'juice'
  • Someone to pick you up to 'show' you where your food is on the dresser
  • Finding bare toes to nibble (see 'chomp') on
  • Rubber bands to chew
  • Twist ties to chase
  • That toy on a spring and stand that you liked to drag upstairs
  • Kibble treats skittering across the basement floor to chase
  • Ankles to rub against (but just barely touching, because actually touching is uncomfortable you know!)
  • Finally, here's hoping you can come and go wherever you want - whether it be the other side of the door (why is it you always seemed to be on the wrong side of a closed door?), or go outside to roam as you wish

Things are sure quiet around here. We miss you and your little bunny puff of a tail, your big voice, your bigger personality, and all that made you special.

Your pawprints have left an indelible mark on our hearts.  

Rocky
May you Rest in Peace
March 1, 2003 - May 7, 2014

Friday, April 18, 2014

Life is a Highway

Life is a Highway… What a great driving song!

It is also a great metaphor for living life – and driving – with diabetes.
Despite the temptation, and except when we are driving on the autobahn, most of us try to stick to the speed limit, more or less – and some of us are better at it (or luckier) than others.

When you have Type 1 diabetes, one must take care not to ‘drive low’, by observing personal blood sugar limits. Just as any driver will put on a favourite driving song when hitting the road and putting the pedal to the metal. In doing so, risk factors are assessed – personal safety, risk to others, and if making poor choices, one ultimately can face fines, or worse.

It’s the same with blood sugars. There’s no room for error, because errors can end up with dire consequences – for yourself and for others.

For me, I won’t get behind the wheel if my blood sugar is below 5.0 mmol/90 mg. An additional rule that I observe – if I’m in that mid-5.0 area (100 mg-ish), and my CGM (Continuous Glucose Monitor) is showing a down arrow (telling me “Warning! Falling blood sugars”) when I am heading out the door, I won’t get behind the wheel then either. I’ll sit down, load up with carbs and/or sugar, and wait it out.

Work will have to wait.
Grocery shopping will go on hold.
Life is absolutely suspended until I’m in a drive-safe range.

Once I get behind the wheel, the checking doesn’t stop. In fact this is when I become more alert – to the way I am feeling, and also to be in tune to what my CGM is telling me. Although it is set to alert me at 4.4 mmol/80 mg, when it does alert me, it means that I’ll pull over without delay, and will sit there, scarfing down glucose, until my BG rises above that magical 5.0/90 mark, with an up arrow. I don’t ask questions.
There's no load, I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Tell 'em we're survivors
From "Life is a Highway" by Tom Cochrane
So driving with Type 1 diabetes. No excuses. No “I’m almost there”. And that's that.