dLife - Real Life

Happy No D Day

Carey Potash — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 03:41:35 +0000

Thanks to George over at Ninjabetic for encouraging us to blog about something other than, well, you know. That of which we shall not speaketh of. Not today.

On Friday night I watched my youngest, Ben, play soccer. I was stunned by some of the behavior of the children. And by children, I mean the adults. More specifically, the two coaches on the opposing team.

I sat in my chair absolutely transfixed on the frothy venom spitting out of their mouths.

Screaming at the top of their lungs at these little 7 year olds.

"God help me if you don't kick the ball as hard as you can," the one coach threatened menacingly with teeth clenched and veins bulging, running along the sidelines in pace with the player. I was so afraid for this kid.

Rites of Passage

Brenda Bell — Mon, 01 Oct 2012 04:05:38 +0000

Saturday, our friends' 13-year-old son celebrated his Bar Mitzvah, officially becoming a man.

He still can't legally buy beer, smoke, vote, or drive a car. But according to Jewish law, he is subject to all the rights and responsibilities of an adult male. The most important of these is being permitted to (or required to, depending on the size of the congregation) read from the Sefer Torah, the double-spindled scroll that contains the Tanach — the Five Books of Moses — which comprises the core of the Jewish and Christian Bibles.

Anticipation and Trepidation

Brenda Bell — Fri, 28 Sep 2012 17:59:53 +0000

Tomorrow, The Other Half and I will be attending our friends' son's Bar Mitzvah. It will be the first time I will be in an Orthodox synagogue or congregation on Shabbat since diagnosis.

Many Jews take the precept of Shabbat (Shabbos, Sabbath) as a day of rest quite seriously — Orthodox Jews in particular. The custom is to not drive, to not turn light switches on or off, to not turn the stove, oven, or microwave on or off or to change their heat settings, and to not carry anything outside the home. This practice is known as Shomer Shabbat, and extends to Jewish holidays and certain festival days.

Forced Entry

Carey Potash — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 18:47:29 +0000

Last night sucked. It reminded me of the early days when one of us had to hold Charlie down while the other squeezed his mouth open and forced him to drink apple juice in the middle of the night.

I'll never forget the way he clenched his teeth as a baby and turned his head from side to side defiantly as we begged him to let us give him juice. "You have to drink!" we begged. "Please!!!"

But, yes, last night sucked. I tried to hold his arms down but he was so squirmy - and shockingly strong. I tried to swaddle him, but his bony arms kept popping free. I squeezed the outside of his jaw, trying to get him to dislodge his lips and open his mouth nice and wide.

I wanted to just give up. It was too stressful. He kept resisting and resisting. He was being completely uncooperative and unreasonable.

S-A-F-E-T-Y

Carey Potash — Tue, 25 Sep 2012 18:40:47 +0000

When I was a kid, the most danger I would encounter at a friend's birthday party was the occasional tumble while roller skating to Grandmaster Melle Mel's cocaine-laced single "White Lines." Or ironically, "The Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats. You young ones may have no idea what the hell I'm talking about.

At the time, I think I thought "White Lines" was a reference to a football field or the lines separating lanes on highways. So young. So naïve. Hair so spiked.

Or we had some good old fashioned fun at a place called Farrell's - a zany ice cream parlor filled with giant rainbow-twirled suckers, banana splits, waiters in red-striped shirts and straw boater's hats and self-playing pianos. What I don't recall at either the roller skating rink or the old fashioned ice cream parlor was being shot at.

Wingin' It

Carey Potash — Mon, 24 Sep 2012 17:37:26 +0000

I really don't enjoy "wingin' it" with my son's life.

Charlie had his first game yesterday with his new ice hockey team - the Grizzlies. Participating in travel hockey for the first time, I am quickly discovering that each and every rink we visit will present different obstacles in my ability to communicate with him.

Yesterday I sat high above bleachers - behind glass and netting. Charlie and his Grizzlies were on a bench on the other side of the ice - roughly 100 feet away from me. On our home ice, I could at least have the ability to hover over him and motion to him or even get so close that I can read the number flashing on his meter after he tested his blood sugar. In this rink, I felt powerless.

Diabetes Takes the Cake

Brenda Bell — Mon, 24 Sep 2012 14:33:03 +0000

Today is the third annual Diabetes Art Day. Throughout the day, people touched by diabetes will create or upload images illustrating how we feel about diabetes, the impact of diabetes on our lives, or even just how much diabetes trash we accumulate over a given period of time. The media vary from person to person; the message — while personal — does not. Diabetes impacts every part of our lives, right down to our artistic sensibilities.

Q 1. What are you going to do for diabetes art day? or How are you preparing for diabetes art day? #dsma #DArtDay

Shhhh! It's a Secret

Carey Potash — Fri, 21 Sep 2012 16:05:25 +0000

Shhhh! You can't tell anyone this. I'm only telling you this because we've become such close friends. Because I trust you.

Charlie's blood sugars have been ... kinda ...

GOOD!!!!!!

Good for like a really, really long stretch. So good that our perspective has changed. If I ask Susanne how Charlie's sugars were in a given day, she might say, "good all day but high at dinner." By high she might mean around 200 or 220. During worse times, high might mean 350-400. I can live with that.

We're in a good spot with blood sugars and I don't want it to end. Charlie hasn't had his first cold of the school year yet and with that comes horrific blood sugars. For now, I just want to ride this as long as possible. I want to run out and get his A1c checked immediately just to see a never before seen number.

New BCP

Lindsey Guerin — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 20:32:10 +0000

Because of my PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), life is unbearable without an oral contraceptive. My hormones rage uncontrollably and all my symptoms (acne, ovarian cysts and pain, weight gain, moodiness, irregular periods, etc) create a life that I hate. So I've been on several pills over the last years and finally settled on Yaz because of it's anti-androgenic (it lowers your androgen levels like testosterone) effects.

Brighter

Carey Potash — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 16:47:01 +0000

"It's weird," Charlie said, raking his fingers through his wet, black hair and then taking a giant swig of water.

"After I had the juice box, everything just looked brighter out on the ice."

Despite my many attempts to get it right so that Charlie does not have his ice hockey interrupted by low blood sugars, it's almost inevitable that I see him skating over to the bench with the thumbs down hand gesture. I rise from my seat and look down at him like a mother bird while he unzips the black case and pricks his finger.

The first image I thought of when he said the bit about his vision was my laptop computer; how the screen brightens when plugged in.

"Yeah, that's weird," I said.