SweetLifeStories Diabetes Blog

A lot of people think being stubborn is an unhealthy trait. But for me, I can see that my refusal to give in to the impact diabetes has on me physically and emotionally has served a purpose. A great one. And that is refusing to give up on moving forward. Sometimes the steps aren’t easy. Other times I have been furious at being so different from friends and family. I’ve certainly cried my share of self-pity party tears–haven’t we all? I’ve sometimes run away from facing diabetes straight on. But give in? Not yet.

That’s why I read, with interest, this recent article from a 1994-2008 study on just how serious the impact is on most people who have diabetes:

Quotes can be inspirational, but too often they’re a royal pain in the rear–dredging up feelings I’d rather ignore or experiences I’d rather leave in my past.  Too preachy. More often than not, condescending. But sometimes, yes, I’ll admit there are times when a good one comes along that can change your day, light a smile, and inspire you to dig in harder to face some of the obstacles in your path.

I signed up a few months back to get online delivery of daily quotes through Inspirational Daily. Some days, admittedly, I choose to hit “delete.” And just like that, the pressure of having to face someone else’s idea of inspiration is gone (LOL)! But there are other days I’m more open to ponder the connections between how I live my life and the daily quote sent out through someone’s else’s website. Yesterday was one of those days, when my email delivered a doozy to my virtual doorstep and I chose to hit “read.” Here’s what grabbed me:

You’ve got to follow your passion. You’ve got to figure out what it is you love–who you really are. And have the courage to do that. I believe that the only courage anybody ever needs is the courage to follow your own dreams.   —Oprah Winfrey

Well, dear Oprah, there’s a reason your quote reasonated with me! It’s through digging deep into what I love to do that I can forget my worries about living with long-term diabetes. Instead of being tempted by foods I shouldn’t eat 24/7, I’m happy to be digging in my garden until my blood sugar drops so low that I have to legitimately eat! I’m carried away by shaping clay on my humming potter’s wheel into a miraculous vessel, or trying to master applying a Photoshop action to one of my beloved photographs, or making the right connection with one of my sweet dogs so that she goes sailing over jumps and swishes perfectly through her agility weave poles . . .  It’s all beautiful when those efforts work.

Kath on potters wheel in Japan

It doesn’t really matter what your passions and talents are. They’re “happiness channels”–there for the taking, helping us feel better about ourselves. My happiness makes those around me happier, too. But most important for me, my passions move me into another dimension–one far removed from the everyday burdens of living with (and worrying about) diabetes. I am someone else in the time I spend passionately engaged in things I love to do. That, alone, is worth the time and space it takes to grapple with the daily onslaught of quotes delivered to my virtual doorstep!

B well, b happy, and pursue your passions. Somehow, they are all magically linked!

Until next time, kath

I don’t usually pass along quotes, although many inspire me toward appreciating life. But here’s one I thought I’d share. It may serve to strengthen your resolve or lighten your load–especially if you’ve been worrying a little too much about the “what if’s” of diabetes or another health issue.

Live your truth. Express your love. Share your enthusiasm. Take action towards your dreams. Walk your talk. Dance and sing to your music. Embrace your blessings. Make today worth remembering.                                                                                                                                              - Steve Maraboli       

Blessings? They surround us, challenging our thinking and the obstacles in our path. Diabetes, in a strange way, has ultimately made me a better person by forcing me to think, problem-solve, outwit and be able to laugh at all the zany situations that come up and are related to the disease. Would I rather be free of its burdens? Of course. But I also give thanks, at this time of the season, for its challenges. They remind me of the joy and beauty all around me. 

Celebrating Tess & Zoe's bds!

B well, b happy. And have a happy THANKSgiving. 

World Diabetes Day is not something I’d admit giving much thought to, but then I clicked on a few links to read about so many people’s efforts trying corral awareness about the epidemic of diabetes in the U.S. and around the globe. Most of the planned activities and information is about Type 2. That’s not me, I thought. But scanning the Twitter postings, I still gasped when I read this mind-boggling projection:  It is estimated that 1 in 3 Americans will get Type 2 diabetes by 2050.

Wow! That means that of nearly every family I know, one member of that family to whom I’m connected by blood or friendship will become diabetic.  Of course, these projected stats are really pointed toward adults in their 30′s and older. But where I live in New Mexico, even now there is an epidemic of young people being diagnosed with Type 2 in their teens! In the last decade, the number of Hispanics and Native Americans succumbing to diabetes has opened an equal opportunity door to admit every ethnicity you can name.

Many of these new diabetics have to go on insulin. And despite the life-lengthening promise of insulin, it has a darker side. I know about that side because I’ve been taking insulin either through single daily injections, twice daily injections, four times-a-day injections, five-times-a-day injections, extra when-I’ve-been-sick-with-the-flu injections, and 24/7 insulin-delivered-through-a-pump “injections” for an unbelievable 46 years and 7 months. So despite its helpful properties to keep me going, it’s definitely not a cure for diabetes.

Just for the sake of having some admittedly distorted fun, I converted the length of time I’ve been taking insulin to try to ward off the evil complications of diabetes. That calculates to approximately 17,045 days or 2,435 weeks I’ve had the dubious honor of living with diabetes.  Today, my blood sugar’s a little on the high side, and I am sitting here with time on my hands, waiting for the extra insulin I just took to help lower it. But who’s counting?!?

In a further push toward masochism, my curiosity got the better of my self-control (always my nemesis, anyway) which warned me not to proceed in this direction, so I then tried to determine the number of insulin injections I’ve taken over 46 years and 7 months. In just the first 15 years of having diabetes, my average was 22,000 insulin injections! That’s a human pincusion, for goodness sake;  a government war-time experiment gone wrong, of sorts . . . 

And how many shots have I taken in the remaining 28 years? Hmmm–impossible to calculate, as I’ve been on an insulin pump that delivers insulin to me 24/7. That is, when it doesn’t clog up, run down, get detached from my body for water sports, or been set aside the relatively few times I’ve been hospitalized and on a scene-stealing I.V.

All of this amounts to a staggering impact on just one person’s life circle. So the growing epidemic is, indeed, mind-boggling in its menacing march. Beyond my grumblings about who might be responsible for this plight and my occasional epithats at the obstacles thrown at me, I still have to laugh at the craziness of it all, the ups and downs, the behaviors and scenes engendered by diabetes. What other choice is there? Usually, the laughter restores me, keeping me sane from the worry than can be so consuming.

Yet it’s interesting that I also feel a sense of honor–appreciation, if you will–to be in relatively good health after so many years grappling with this demanding disease. To live through a challenging experience usually brings deeper understanding, compassion, and a skill-set many others need. It is my hope to share these lessons and understandings along the road toward conquering diabetes–in spite of and because of it all.

So World Diabetes Day, bring it on! I hope the team players win this one.

 B well, b happy. Stare those demons down . . . and laugh just a little.

Until next time, kath

Four interesting things happened recently that made me think about how much of a struggle it sometimes is to live happily and passionately in spite of a lifetime of health issues like diabetes, and how critical it is to throw yourself with passion into doing the things that make you happy. Things that bring joy into your life. Activities that are so consuming that they make you forget, even if just for a little while, the burdens of trying to stay healthy and all that means.

First, my sister had a birthday and turned, well, three years younger than me. Nope, not telling! But I was thrilled to read her post at http://Beanygetsablog.wordpress.com and feel her growing happiness and appreciation, post-breast cancer, of everyone and everything in her life. She epitomizes what life’s all about–greeting every day with zest, loving her time with family and friends, immersing herself with gusto into cooking and city life, travel adventures and singing. Yes, my sister, I’m proud to say, is singing once again. That says it all: I am happy enough to sing my heart out and share my passion with others.

Then, I read an article on the internet that grabbed my attention–mostly because of what is not commonly seen these days in the news. It was about coping with Type 1 diabetes–and the article acknowledges how very hard it is.

See:  http://www/nytimes.com/2011/10/25/health/25brody.html?_r=1.

Although it gives just a simple glimpse into some of the burdens of this disease, it still made me ponder how often (healthwise) I feel like a “bad” person when my blood sugars aren’t in control–despite my best efforts at maintaining my willpower, managing an insulin pump, trying to fit in healthy meals and exercise, and overcoming the high blood sugar rises that accompany stress. Or how often I fight feelings of sheer panic when I start to envision a future where I succumb to the often-reported scary complications of long-term Type 1 diabetes. I try not to do that too often, but it’s always there. And the best I can do is to keep trying, refuse to give up and live as normal a life as possible.

The third incident was happy and fun. I was on an agility course last week with my 6-year old whippet Zoe. She and I have been in the process of becoming a team where we can interpret each other’s signals, verbal commands and moves. The resulting bond from working together is awesome! When we finished a particular sequence of running several obstacles, the trainer’s words rang out to me. “Party her! Party her really well! She did a great job following you!” That made me smile so brightly that it could have lit up a room. First of all, I love playing with words, and here was a perfect example of turning a noun into the most amazing verb; it was perfect! Then I realized, that this word–as a verb–is so powerful, too. I couldn’t think of a better way to say what needed to be said. I thought later, as I drove Zoe and myself home, we all need to “party ourselves” in the issues and things that matter. We need to recognize the importance of taking the smallest steps forward on our life journey and be sure to celebrate doing so. 

Finally, I had the absolute joy of running Zoe in an AKC agility trial last week. My sweet little whippet who is so shy becomes a driving, maniacal force out on the field–so much so that she (and I) often make mistakes (which we learn from) and of course then get disqualified (DQ’d). (It’s humbling, but you have to imagine trying to keep up with a whippet who can run like the wind!) So after a long dry spell of four trials and eight runs over five long months with no qualifying scores at all, on our very last run of the day, we finished the course. I knew Zoe had erred once when she went around, instead of through, the tire. So I’d brought her back and, this time, she soared through it, bounding over the last two jumps to the finish line. Had we “Q’d?” OMG–yes and more! Zoe and I had earned an astonishing FIRST PLACE!

A miracle? Perhaps. But I thought of all of our hard work and the challenges I faced struggling to not give up! That work and passion gave me such joy. I had tried to fly like the wind, too-channeling my beautiful soaring dog–and I was thrown into another dimension where diabetes, for once, didn’t exist, and the feeling of success was so sweet, so tempting, that it moved me to vow that I’ll keep on trying and loving life in spite of all its imperfections.

Power to partying your passions, and your steps forward no matter how big or small! 

B well, be happy. Until next time, kath

And the morning didn’t disappoint. The birds’ sequined feathers dazzled me. Their quest for energy-sustaining liquids fascinated. And their near-nonstop activity was mesmerizing. Then, looking at all the energy these jeweled hummers expended, a curious thought grabbed me.

Though I love watching these tiny acrobats, I can’t imagine how much sugar (i.e., carbs and food) it would take to keep me going like that! Our group’s hosts, in fact, let us know that they mix up, on average, over 300 pounds of sugar and water in one season. That translates into 1,733 calories (straight carbs) per pound of sugar, or almost 520,000 calories per season for those busy little creatures! I can’t even imagine having to figure out insulin coverage for this type of routine!

Having to count my carb intake every day and balance it with activity, sometimes feeling trapped into a “Groundhog Day” repetitive pattern of being chained to food as an insuling-taking Type 1 diabetic, this thought of never being able to do anything but sustain one’s life by a singular quest for food takes my breath away! And exercising like that? It really would take a miracle for any of us to sustain that level of activity (insulin-dependent or not). Go hummers, go!  Amazing what we take for granted, isn’t it?

B well, b happy. I’d love to hear about your passions that keep you going in spite of health challenges.

Until next time, kath

My summer days are filled with amazing activities and opportunities to connect with friends. Dog-training classes, clay classes and studio time, gardening and yard design, exercise classes; you name it, I try to fit it in. Busy keeps me pretty happy. But sometimes, a more personal one-on-one connection is something I crave. There’s something important–more intimate–about spending time with one person and being able to share your thoughts, feelings, passions about life.

Yesterday, I called a new friend to see if she and her family were okay due to a raging fire not far from their home. We spent a few minutes talking, and then I reminded her to feel free to call me if she wanted any company to photograph people, special events, or places this summer.

“Funny you mention that,” she said.

“Oh?” I asked. What do you mean?”

“I plan to photograph the Santa Fe Rodeo this evening. Want to come along?”

Such a simple little question. Despite having other tentative plans that afternoon to meet a group of my clay artist friends and take the train up to Santa Fe so we could hear a guest lecture at Santa Fe Clay–which I’d done the previous week with that same group– somehow it was too much of a temptation to resist. Photographing a rodeo and its riders up-close and personal was something I had never tried. I was intrigued, but my reasoning went beyond the opportunity of photographing the rodeo.

Being outdoors and stretching myself to try something new? A powerful temptation! But beyond that, the chance to spend time with one person whose love of life and enthusiasm are contagious, and who understands–more than the average person–what it’s like to live with Type 1 diabetes because her grandson has lived with it since he was four? Those are powerful attributes  that struck me not only as being worth altering my plans, but also pushed me to take this chance to connect with someone I admire and want to know better. I let myself give in to my intuition and what felt right.

Every friend is important in keeping me connected, hopeful, and grateful for each day. These relationships help me appreciate the struggle to stay healthy. But sometimes, I need something deeper than meeting friends in groups. Maybe it’s the chance to delve deeper. To feel unthreatened enough to open the door to our souls just a little wider when we connect one-on-one. Sometimes, the power of one special friendship can be just the ticket to massaging the heart and keeping me believing in the journey.

I’m visiting my sister, bro-in-law, and 16-year-old niece in NYC this week. It’s hot and humid, but every time I’m here I wonder at the delights and different ways of life that fill the city.

Just yesterday, for example, I got to walk through the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens for hours by myself, photographing to my heart’s delight. The new herb garden filled me with inspiration for my own southwestern garden and hardscape. When I finally returned “home” and had a moment to spend with my niece Hannah, I told her how much I loved doing things, being passionate about my interests and open to new pursuits. Her simple response? “Every day should be filled with wonder.”

How inspiring her approach to life is! For the first 25 years of living with diabetes, I wasn’t always able to view life around me with so much wonder and pleasure.  Hannah listened and, in her child-on-the-cusp-of-grown-up manner, she reiterated the importance of doing something wonderful every day. That’s a powerful mantra! From the mouths of babes . . . telling us something we already know to be true but is somehow farfetched, at times, when we feel burdened with health or family problems.

Living so long with Type 1 diabetes has not been easy, but it has helped me appreciate every friend and experience I now have. It has made me push myself to learn more, do better, be better. It has forced me to focus. It has pushed me to shape opportunity from challenge. Diabetes has ultimately made me a better person. For all this, I am absolutely filled with wonder!

B well, b happy, b wonder(ful).

Until next time, kath

This weekend, I’m off to shoot (with my camera, that is) cyclists in the Albuquerque Century Tour de Cure sponsored by the American Diabetes Association–NM affiliate.  Looking forward to everything but the early start time, when the first group riding 100 miles officially takes off at 6:30 a.m.

Ugggg; getting up and out at 5 a.m.  is not the most ideal scheduling for controlling my blood sugars, but the sacrifice (that’s me, this time ’round) has to be made. Will just have to channel the enthusiasm and energy of all 600+ riders to get there and into the zen of great photo ops! Once there, I know my adrenaline will kick in and I’ll be totally into the moment, working the camera from all angles to capture the excitement.

Cool; just thinking about it, I feel better already about the early hour rise time! Since  we are what we sow, I shout: go, cyclists, go!  The more, the merrier, as we come together to raise funds to cure diabetes and minimize its impact on so many people’s lives!

So back to the heart of all things diabetes, thinking about the all-important question so many of us fantasize-dream-cry-pray-hope-wish-bargain-share-plead-formulate:

IF YOU COULD GIVE IT ALL BACK, WOULD YOU?

Here are my thoughts from the preface of my memoir on growing up with diabetes:

Someone once asked me (this very) intriguing question when I’d been diabetic just over half my life. But in the moments that followed, as I grappled to understand who I had become after all those years of trying to live with the disease, an incredulous thought swept through me. How can it be possible that I can’t separate the person I’ve become as a result of living with diabetes, from the person I might have been without its grip on my life? And I realized that my life had been indelibly and irrevocably changed by the process.

I recall sharing this crazy heart-stopping thought with my husband. He looked me squarely in the eye, somehow already knowing the answer. Yet he still asked, “So what did you say?” Being obstinate, I just wasn’t so easily inclined to give in at the time. I fidgeted, looked away and finally mumbled a reluctant response with a heavy sigh, “Well, I’m not sure. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t think I should give it up.” To be honest, this was a terrifying thought. What I really wanted, of course, was to eradicate, strangle, and burn away all evidence of the inroads this disease had made into my life, mind and heart. But that moment offered me an epiphany. Another unimaginable gift, as I realized that I couldn’t give up the experience, because having diabetes had shaped me into the person I’d become, triumphant warts and all.

When the work of suppressing my diabetes began to take too much energy for me to want to stay in that place, I finally grasped that despite my many tribulations, much of the ultimate impact has been surprisingly positive. It started with accepting a simple truth: while my own journey has not been an easy one, it has definitely been profound. Finding ways to emerge from obstacles in my path has made me stronger both in character and spirit. It has pushed me to be decidedly more determined, and helped shape a sense of empathy and willingness to give to others. The day I acknowledged a grudging acceptance of the disease to my husband was most definitely a day that it all began to make sense. The knowledge that someone I deeply cared for and trusted was willingly there beside me in partnership and solidarity was enough to sustain me and help me believe in the power of the journey.