type 1, insulin pump, blood glucose

Princess and D-gal: The power of two bloggers

For years I wanted nothing to do with this disease. Nothing. I was comfortable taking a backseat to my diabetes, ignoring it, denying it, full-on rebelling against it. I didn’t care to talk to anyone about it, and I sure as heck didn’t want anybody talking to me about it. And when it came to other diabetics, I wanted nothing to do with them. But my oh my how things do change. Earlier this week, when still in the Onterrible, I had an opportunity to meet with Scully, fellow blogger, long-distance runner, and type 1 diabetic. I was a little nervous going in. I’ve been reading her blog for a good while now and while I love her online personality, I had no idea what I’d be getting in the flesh. Over the years I’ve met a few diabetics who, truthfully, I couldn’t stand. For me, there’s nothing worse than …

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Good Life. Good Time.

Ahh Onterrible, we had such hopes for you, high hopes, you teased us with a sunny forecast, balmy weather even, you told me to leave the sweaters at home, to pack my bags full of spring skirts and no-sleeved shirts, and so I did. And then, practically the second we landed down in your land, you turned on us with a crack of thunder and five full days of rain, and not warm rain, oh no, you were filling our boots full of bitter, cold, nasty, miserable rain. And so, dear Onterrible, you shall continue to be … TERRIBLE!!! (Side note: when we landed in Vancouver yesterday afternoon, the sun was hot and blinding, and the Onterrible layers were fast shedding!) Mario should NOT still be wearing his wool hat in May! Despite the rain, there were still some pretty great moments to be had visiting with Mario’s family, and …

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An ode to moms

Dear moms, Without you, I wouldn’t be here. Not only did you give birth to this here princess, you empowered me to be the independent person I am today, to believe in myself, to love myself, to kick and scream, and even throw a few punches too when things don’t go my way. You gave me an un-detering, never give in, fight like you’ve never fought before attitude. You gave me my button nose, and my plump lips, and yes my simian finger tips too. You gave me my addiction healthy relationship with chocolate and my undying love for ice cream. You did not give me your breasts, but did give me your early grey hair and nervous belly (but I shant fault you for those!). And on more than one occasion, including yesterday, you gave me life. Wedding moms (and pops) Back when I was a rebellious teenager, ignoring …

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Sleeping on the pineapple express

99 sheep jumped over the fence, 98 sheep jumped over the fence, 97 zzzzzzz. I am not much of a sleeper, never have been. I’ve counted sheep all the way down to the negative numbers, have tried to black out my brain, have tried an assortment of drugs (mostly in my teenage years) and have even resorted to stuffing a pillow over my head and hoping for the best, but for the most part, none of it works. On average, I get maybe 6 hours, if I’m lucky, in a night. But after last night, of which I got 10.5 full hours of sleep and even slept in, I’m thinking I may have found the miracle sleep deprivation cure: Tri Night! Now, before I continue, I must apologize to my dear husband, whose opinion I value so greatly and who in most cases I agree with whole heartedly, but who, …

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