Driving to work, my thoughts drift to the future and all the amazing things yet to come for my husband and I, and a silly grin makes it way to my face. I think of LT’s first Christmas at home, holidays with all the cousins, and eventually being grandparents. For miles, I am lost in my own daydream.
That is until a nagging, cramping sort of feeling in stomach jars me back to reality. This cramping, almost painful feeling in my stomach has seemed accompany high blood sugars recently. Just like that my mood plummets and my worry of the damage done my body from diabetes takes over. Guilt is next, since it’s all up to me and let’s face it, I am not a model diabetic.
I hate this disease and the way it taints things with its mere presence. I hate that my biggest worry about being a parent (that is after the huge obstacle of actually getting him home) is my diabetes getting in the way. Will I be able to have good enough control to keep up with my baby and feel well enough to enjoy the priceless moments? More daunting still is the heavy weight of the complications that in my mind are inevitable.
A glance at his adorable face and I pull out my kit to test. I despise testing, those often angry numbers glaring back at me from the screen, but for him I’ll do anything. I will do my best to not let this chapter of my life be tainted by the big bullying D.
12/18/2007
12/13/2007
Christmas Early!
I got my starter set of Real Time sensors today! I won’t be able to start using them until I get my pump upgrade which will happen next month, but I am still excited. Unbeknownst to me the sensors need to be refrigerated so the package was sent overnight and arrived at my office this morning.
My co-worker and friend, Sarah, was instrumental in helping me wade through the whole process with here inside knowledge from her previous job at Medtronic. Thank you Sarah! See, the first time I needed pump supplies with my UHC insurance it was a huge hassle to get the bill paid and my prescription plan only allows for 2 bottles of Novolog at a time (which is much less than I use) so I therefore assumed that there was no way my insurance would cover the Real Time, but Sarah told me that they would.
So, once I get the pump upgrade and actually start using the Real Time system next year it is game on! No more slacking, no more acting like I don’t have diabetes! It’s time to get those blood sugars under control – I’ve got to be in the best health I can be for baby LT.
My co-worker and friend, Sarah, was instrumental in helping me wade through the whole process with here inside knowledge from her previous job at Medtronic. Thank you Sarah! See, the first time I needed pump supplies with my UHC insurance it was a huge hassle to get the bill paid and my prescription plan only allows for 2 bottles of Novolog at a time (which is much less than I use) so I therefore assumed that there was no way my insurance would cover the Real Time, but Sarah told me that they would.
So, once I get the pump upgrade and actually start using the Real Time system next year it is game on! No more slacking, no more acting like I don’t have diabetes! It’s time to get those blood sugars under control – I’ve got to be in the best health I can be for baby LT.
12/11/2007
IT'S A BOY!
We got our referral! He is a beautiful baby boy from Guatemala. LT is about 2 months old, happy & healthy. We got an amazing video where he is happy as can be, almost-smiling, alert, and simply adorable. It was torture to watch LT on the screen and not be able to hold him, kiss him and breathe in that wonderful baby scent. I wish I could post a picture here but our agency asks that we don’t.
We are head-over-heals in love and we haven’t met him yet. There are still so many hoops to jump through and endless waiting to endure but at least we have a picture to attach to all our hopes and dreams.
Now all we want for Christmas is for LT to come home safely and quickly and most of all not get tangled up in all the bureaucratic crap surrounding international adoption.
PS
All the stress, excitement and waiting is wreaking havoc on my blood sugars
We are head-over-heals in love and we haven’t met him yet. There are still so many hoops to jump through and endless waiting to endure but at least we have a picture to attach to all our hopes and dreams.
Now all we want for Christmas is for LT to come home safely and quickly and most of all not get tangled up in all the bureaucratic crap surrounding international adoption.
PS
All the stress, excitement and waiting is wreaking havoc on my blood sugars
8/07/2007
Big News....at least to me it is.
The big news that I have been dying to share with the blogosphere but haven’t yet because there is a part of me that is terrified that it will not happen is....
We are adopting.
As my husband says “Good Lord willing, by this time next year we will have a baby boy home with us.” After much consideration and a huge leap of faith we decided on Guatemala and a boy. We are very close to getting our dossier in and then begins the real wait; the agonizing wait for him to come home. We have been fingerprinted, questioned, examined, schooled, and pushed to our limits with the mounds of paperwork. I think I actually broke a sweat when the social worker asked me tons of questions about diabetes which led to more questions about my Prozac use. There were some moments there where I hated diabetes the disease more than I ever had before because it felt like, for those few moments that I may no be deemed suitable for adoption because of it. The social worker and the agency do not see these as issues (in the carefully worded way it is all documented) but the doubt is still tangible.
I simply cannot wait until we get our referral and thus the picture of our baby. Then it will all feel so much more real. Then I can start decorating the baby’s room and buy him some adorable, tiny cargo pants, ooh and tiny Crocs, and little Converse and …. Then I might feel like this could actually happen to me.
I love kids. Love them sticky hands, sloppy kisses, whininess, brutal honesty, and all.
When I think of my future there is a child in it, and my husband too.
PS It seems so impersonal to call him just baby but without sharing the name we have picked out I am stumped so if you have any ideas let me know. Art Sweets moniker of Guatababy was great and is all I keep thinking of.
We are adopting.
As my husband says “Good Lord willing, by this time next year we will have a baby boy home with us.” After much consideration and a huge leap of faith we decided on Guatemala and a boy. We are very close to getting our dossier in and then begins the real wait; the agonizing wait for him to come home. We have been fingerprinted, questioned, examined, schooled, and pushed to our limits with the mounds of paperwork. I think I actually broke a sweat when the social worker asked me tons of questions about diabetes which led to more questions about my Prozac use. There were some moments there where I hated diabetes the disease more than I ever had before because it felt like, for those few moments that I may no be deemed suitable for adoption because of it. The social worker and the agency do not see these as issues (in the carefully worded way it is all documented) but the doubt is still tangible.
I simply cannot wait until we get our referral and thus the picture of our baby. Then it will all feel so much more real. Then I can start decorating the baby’s room and buy him some adorable, tiny cargo pants, ooh and tiny Crocs, and little Converse and …. Then I might feel like this could actually happen to me.
I love kids. Love them sticky hands, sloppy kisses, whininess, brutal honesty, and all.
When I think of my future there is a child in it, and my husband too.
PS It seems so impersonal to call him just baby but without sharing the name we have picked out I am stumped so if you have any ideas let me know. Art Sweets moniker of Guatababy was great and is all I keep thinking of.
4/04/2007
21 Days, They Say...
You can’t keep doing this! You are killing yourself slowly. You have diabetes; it’s not going away; just get over it! These thoughts and more swirl in my cloudy head as I walk into work feeling like crap with no idea what my blood sugar is and 3 cups of coffee with calorie-containing cream down the hatch. Last check was in the middle of the night and was 317 which I corrected for so there is good chance that I was low when I woke up. My testing kit was even right on the dresser near the bed (where I nearly left it) but I still did not test. Testing is just not a part of my routine or habit, especially in the morning when I drag myself out of bed, make coffee and get ready for work. Seems like a simple fix – just do it consistently and it will become habit. Ha! Some days it is easy to just do that first blood sugar but most days it doesn’t even cross my mind until I start feeling crappy.
So poking around the web I came across this quote from Proverbs: “As a dog returns to his own vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.” Hmmm… Strong image to make a point. Is the lesson that constantly repeating (regurgitating) bad habits is as disgusting as a dog returning to it’s own vomit?
So poking around the web I came across this quote from Proverbs: “As a dog returns to his own vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.” Hmmm… Strong image to make a point. Is the lesson that constantly repeating (regurgitating) bad habits is as disgusting as a dog returning to it’s own vomit?
Then I came across a reference to something I have either heard or seen before: that it takes 21 days to form a habit. I’m going to give it a try to make those first-thing-in-the-morning-blood-sugars a habit.
It takes at least 21 days to form a habit. This means that you have to do something at least 21 times before it begins to become part of your everyday routine. So . . .I made a sheet to check off the days & will keep you posted.
1. Decide exactly what you want to do. Write it down and post it where you can see it every day, like your bathroom mirror. Be as specific as possible.
2. Schedule time to do what you want to do. Again, it takes 21 days to form a habit, so schedule at least 21 days on your calendar and don't let anything get in the way of your schedule. If you miss one of your scheduled days, it's best to start over and schedule
another 21 days. You must be consistent and dedicated to doing what you want to do.
3. Once you reach your 21 days, congratulations! Don't stop now though, schedule another 21 days, and then another and so on, until you do those things you want to do, without even thinking about them . . . like brushing your teeth.
3/29/2007
Painfully Familiar
My husband and I purchased bicycles recently. We have wanted them for some time, since it is one of the few physical activities we both enjoy, so we just did it. It has been a long time since either of us has ridden a bike. That first ride, the first day we got them was wonderfully familiar to me. In my younger days, I was a true biker. At age 14 I did a 600 mile bike trip in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, it was not uncommon for my me and my dad to hop on our bikes and go 10, 15 or 20 miles, and then in college I loved mountain biking with the boys. On a bike, I feel comfortable, capable and strong.
I love the whirring of the tires on the pavement, the wind in my face, the click of the gears as I shift and that the bike only moves as hard as I pedal it. On the second ride we took at a nearby park, biking became painfully familiar. We may have overestimated ourselves by choosing to take the 3 mile path that is quite hilly. As in real hills not just slight elevations that when on a bike seem like huge hills. My heart beating so forcefully in my chest that I could hear it in my ears, gulping huge gasps of air, trying to catch my breath and the burn in my legs as I struggled up the hills, those too, were very familiar.
The next evening we were back on our bikes for a flatter ride and plan to ride when time and weather permit.
I love the whirring of the tires on the pavement, the wind in my face, the click of the gears as I shift and that the bike only moves as hard as I pedal it. On the second ride we took at a nearby park, biking became painfully familiar. We may have overestimated ourselves by choosing to take the 3 mile path that is quite hilly. As in real hills not just slight elevations that when on a bike seem like huge hills. My heart beating so forcefully in my chest that I could hear it in my ears, gulping huge gasps of air, trying to catch my breath and the burn in my legs as I struggled up the hills, those too, were very familiar.
The next evening we were back on our bikes for a flatter ride and plan to ride when time and weather permit.
3/26/2007
Old Dog, New Tricks?
They say “you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.” I feel like an old dog who cannot seem to learn new tricks. The feeling like an old dog part has meaning on several levels since I just have not been feeling that great lately. I caught a cold (the stuffy nose and gross cough variety) that I just can’t seem to shake, my monster headaches have returned, insomnia is in again and the general stress level of my life is up. All I want to do many days is sleep like an old dog. The new tricks part refers to me and my learning to take better care of my diabetes. The minimum: testing, logging, bolusing and carb counting.
The only one I have really done better with is testing but since I haven’t picked up the trick of logging I have no good proof of this. I feel like I have been better about blousing when I eat as opposed to after, but again, it’s hard to show that when I am lacking the logging the part. I’m trying to not be so hard on myself and recognize what I have accomplished and keep trying.
I have been blessed with an anonymous-to-you-commenter (but not to me anymore) on my blog who offered their help in the baby steps and subsequently given support via e-mail. We had a great plan to check in with each other on Mondays and Fridays and set goals for ourselves. Well I am ashamed to admit that I let the ball drop on that one. The last time we e-mailed was like the 14th of March. Before I post this, I will e-mail them and see if I can salva
ge that support.
Other stress comes from work get busy with a couple of big events coming up: The Celebrity Art Auction and Gala and the Tour de Cure Rock-n-Ride at Blossom. Then there is the bigger stress of a serious illness in my husband’s family which entails one dog staying at our house and my husband staying at his sibling’s house with another dog. We get to see each other every day for dinner and on the weekends but the whole situation is crappy and tough. Except for having Skippy stay at our house – he is a great dog.
Another bit of stress came after I spent a few days in Toledo with my niece, Maddy, who stole my heart and came home really, really, really wanting one of my own. Because of many reasons we are looking at adoption and since there are age-limits for many types of adoptions, (not to mention, our own life plans) and my husband will turn 44 in May, the clock is ticking. It hasn’t gotten stressful yet but we are well aware that path ahead is likely to be rough.
So in a nutshell, that is what’s going on. I was horrified when my faithful reader in the office pointed out that it had been 20 days since my last post.
The only one I have really done better with is testing but since I haven’t picked up the trick of logging I have no good proof of this. I feel like I have been better about blousing when I eat as opposed to after, but again, it’s hard to show that when I am lacking the logging the part. I’m trying to not be so hard on myself and recognize what I have accomplished and keep trying.
I have been blessed with an anonymous-to-you-commenter (but not to me anymore) on my blog who offered their help in the baby steps and subsequently given support via e-mail. We had a great plan to check in with each other on Mondays and Fridays and set goals for ourselves. Well I am ashamed to admit that I let the ball drop on that one. The last time we e-mailed was like the 14th of March. Before I post this, I will e-mail them and see if I can salva
ge that support.Other stress comes from work get busy with a couple of big events coming up: The Celebrity Art Auction and Gala and the Tour de Cure Rock-n-Ride at Blossom. Then there is the bigger stress of a serious illness in my husband’s family which entails one dog staying at our house and my husband staying at his sibling’s house with another dog. We get to see each other every day for dinner and on the weekends but the whole situation is crappy and tough. Except for having Skippy stay at our house – he is a great dog.
Another bit of stress came after I spent a few days in Toledo with my niece, Maddy, who stole my heart and came home really, really, really wanting one of my own. Because of many reasons we are looking at adoption and since there are age-limits for many types of adoptions, (not to mention, our own life plans) and my husband will turn 44 in May, the clock is ticking. It hasn’t gotten stressful yet but we are well aware that path ahead is likely to be rough.
So in a nutshell, that is what’s going on. I was horrified when my faithful reader in the office pointed out that it had been 20 days since my last post.
3/06/2007
What Do You Think?
So since I have gotten so many warm congrtulations and people saying they are in my cheering section, I feel like I do have my very own cheering section. This has helped me immensly. Thank you all. 
On a lighter note, I was thinking that perhaps my 'cheering seciton' should have uniforms. What do you think of these?
and I didn't forget the guys
3/02/2007
Baby Steps Taken
In the past 4 days I have tested a total of 20 times! Go Me! I have tested each morning, first thing, before my coffee. This was helped by my putting my test kit on my bedside table so that even before my feet hit the floor, I test. In addition to actually doing my blood sugars I have been – are you ready for this - writing them down in a logbook I created! Th
e readings are all over the place, but I am following everyone’s advice of baby steps and simply concentrating on doing the blood sugars and logging them. I admit I have still done a couple of S.W.A.G. boluses* and an evening of no testing but I am trying. Hopefully in a week or so I will be ready to start taking a look at the numbers and making adjustments.
e readings are all over the place, but I am following everyone’s advice of baby steps and simply concentrating on doing the blood sugars and logging them. I admit I have still done a couple of S.W.A.G. boluses* and an evening of no testing but I am trying. Hopefully in a week or so I will be ready to start taking a look at the numbers and making adjustments. Do I get a virtual gold star?
Much of my accomplishments are thanks to my OC and real-life friends. See I opened my big mouth and told pretty much everyone around me how horrific my compliance was and that I needed help changing. I couldn't just not do anything when there are so many people rooting for me, I had to keep some semblance of integrity. Maybe my motivation is not perfect, but at this point I feel that any motivation is better than none at all.
* S.W.A.G. Bolus – Scientific, Wild Assed Guess bolus. This is where you use more instinct than data to bolus an unexpected or uncalculated meal. (borrowed from other OC bloggers)
2/26/2007
Help Needed with Baby Steps
So how about some detailed instructions or a road map to show me how to get there from here? There being decent control, enough to give me some freedom at least, and here being, the pit of denial I am treading water in. I hear, what you wonderful OC peeps are saying about baby steps, but how? When I think of baby steps I get caught up in just how many baby steps it will take to get there. Which one do I start with? What do I do when I stumble and fall taking those first steps? How do I get back up again?
Please don’t think I am looking for an easy answer. I also realize that I will have to create my own mix of ways to do this. It’s just that I have tired, time and time again to make a fresh start, to take those first steps and I always seem to fail; never seem to make it very far. In my mind, I am perpeptually the kid with the skinned knees, scabs & scars from all failed attempts. I have no shame in admitting that I need help and lots of it.
What should be my first goal or step? When the emotional part of me is screaming “NO,” how do I trick my mind into thinking like a diabetic?
PS – Thanks for all the advice thus far & the support I know I will continue to get from the OC :)
Please don’t think I am looking for an easy answer. I also realize that I will have to create my own mix of ways to do this. It’s just that I have tired, time and time again to make a fresh start, to take those first steps and I always seem to fail; never seem to make it very far. In my mind, I am perpeptually the kid with the skinned knees, scabs & scars from all failed attempts. I have no shame in admitting that I need help and lots of it.
What should be my first goal or step? When the emotional part of me is screaming “NO,” how do I trick my mind into thinking like a diabetic?
PS – Thanks for all the advice thus far & the support I know I will continue to get from the OC :)
2/23/2007
Confession and Revelation
Some days
Some days I am disgusted with myself. I work for an organization that is all about diabetes. The mission is to prevent and cure diabetes and to improve the lives of all people affected by diabetes. I am surrounded by the statistics the risk factors, I process donations made in memory of someone’s loved one who has died from complications associated to diabetes on a daily basis and I put together educational packets on diabetes. Both information on my disease and support too is right in front of me, yet….
Yet I still work very hard at ignoring my own diabetes. What the hell is the matter with me? Am I really that cocky that I think I can be the one to beat the odds? Am I just that lazy? What is my mental block? Days like today, I just think I am an idiot. I should ‘just do it’, just get over it. But for some messed up reason I can’t. I will sit there for hours with the nagging though that I should do a blood sugar, maybe bolus for that coffee and muffin (mind you, it’s a healthy muffin I made from a diabetes cookbook) I ate and the sickly sweet, sluggish feeling of a high coming over and yet I don’t. Instead, I have another cup of coffee, take some ibuprofen and get on with work.
Days like today, I am so fed up with being me. See, most days, as of late are like this in the aspect that I have done, maybe, a blood sugar a day, and bolused only after a meal and by guessing how much to give. To some this may scream ‘crisis’ but to me this is pretty much status quo.
Being this honest is hard; I’m not sure I will even post this. It’s not like I have hidden that I am not exactly a good diabetic, but I’m not sure I want to be this honest…with myself or with anyone else.
Later that same day…
The topic of fasting blood sugars came up with my co-worker who has gestational diabetes and she was shocked to hear that I almost never do a blood sugar (fasting or not) in the morning. I went on to tell her that in the past few weeks I have done hardly any blood sugars at all. She replied that she had seen me do some and admitted that those were probably the only ones I was doing. She says, “So you just don’t do blood sugars? Why?” I confessed that I didn’t really know why, that I would think about doing one then, just not do it…for hours. I told her about my theory of a mental block or a piece missing. I was able to just be totally honest with E and talk about how I simply don’t comply. I think I was ready to come clean.
Sheepishly I admitted that I had really been digging the Dixie Chicks song “Not Ready to Make Nice” lately. This is not my typical type of music but the lines:
"I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round
It’s too late to make it right
I probably wouldn’t if I could
‘Cause I’m mad as hell
Can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should"
These words have just really resonated with me lately and I have been playing the song over & over, singing at the top of my lungs inthe car. E told me I was in denial and I agreed, but countered with how can I have been in denial for nearly my whole adult life? Then she asked me a very pointed question: “Do you feel like that by not complying you are fighting diabetes and to comply would mean you were giving in?” I paused and told her that I know what I should say, but she wanted to know how I really felt. How I really feel (even though the logical part of me knows it’s crap and that by gaining control of my disease, I would really be setting myself free and fighting it), is that deep down I do believe that by being the good little diabetic I should be I am admitting defeat.
This is all still sinking in a day later but thanks to a wonderfully insightful co-worker, no, friend I think I am one step closer to understanding my twisted relationship I have with my diabetes.
Some days I am disgusted with myself. I work for an organization that is all about diabetes. The mission is to prevent and cure diabetes and to improve the lives of all people affected by diabetes. I am surrounded by the statistics the risk factors, I process donations made in memory of someone’s loved one who has died from complications associated to diabetes on a daily basis and I put together educational packets on diabetes. Both information on my disease and support too is right in front of me, yet….
Yet I still work very hard at ignoring my own diabetes. What the hell is the matter with me? Am I really that cocky that I think I can be the one to beat the odds? Am I just that lazy? What is my mental block? Days like today, I just think I am an idiot. I should ‘just do it’, just get over it. But for some messed up reason I can’t. I will sit there for hours with the nagging though that I should do a blood sugar, maybe bolus for that coffee and muffin (mind you, it’s a healthy muffin I made from a diabetes cookbook) I ate and the sickly sweet, sluggish feeling of a high coming over and yet I don’t. Instead, I have another cup of coffee, take some ibuprofen and get on with work.
Days like today, I am so fed up with being me. See, most days, as of late are like this in the aspect that I have done, maybe, a blood sugar a day, and bolused only after a meal and by guessing how much to give. To some this may scream ‘crisis’ but to me this is pretty much status quo.
Being this honest is hard; I’m not sure I will even post this. It’s not like I have hidden that I am not exactly a good diabetic, but I’m not sure I want to be this honest…with myself or with anyone else.
Later that same day…
The topic of fasting blood sugars came up with my co-worker who has gestational diabetes and she was shocked to hear that I almost never do a blood sugar (fasting or not) in the morning. I went on to tell her that in the past few weeks I have done hardly any blood sugars at all. She replied that she had seen me do some and admitted that those were probably the only ones I was doing. She says, “So you just don’t do blood sugars? Why?” I confessed that I didn’t really know why, that I would think about doing one then, just not do it…for hours. I told her about my theory of a mental block or a piece missing. I was able to just be totally honest with E and talk about how I simply don’t comply. I think I was ready to come clean.
Sheepishly I admitted that I had really been digging the Dixie Chicks song “Not Ready to Make Nice” lately. This is not my typical type of music but the lines:
"I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round
It’s too late to make it right
I probably wouldn’t if I could
‘Cause I’m mad as hell
Can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should"
These words have just really resonated with me lately and I have been playing the song over & over, singing at the top of my lungs inthe car. E told me I was in denial and I agreed, but countered with how can I have been in denial for nearly my whole adult life? Then she asked me a very pointed question: “Do you feel like that by not complying you are fighting diabetes and to comply would mean you were giving in?” I paused and told her that I know what I should say, but she wanted to know how I really felt. How I really feel (even though the logical part of me knows it’s crap and that by gaining control of my disease, I would really be setting myself free and fighting it), is that deep down I do believe that by being the good little diabetic I should be I am admitting defeat.
This is all still sinking in a day later but thanks to a wonderfully insightful co-worker, no, friend I think I am one step closer to understanding my twisted relationship I have with my diabetes.
2/07/2007
Perspective
Perspective
perspective noun a way of regarding situations or topics etc.; 2. the appearance of things relative to one another as determined by their distance from the viewer
Perspective is a funny thing. You see things one way, I see them in another. There is no right or wrong perspective necessarily, just different ones. A couple of things a newer friend (who I see daily since I also work with her) said to me got me thinking about my own perspective on things.
“Melissa you are too hard on yourself”
I smirk and say “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before…”
It makes me feel good to hear this yet I still don’t believe it. In my mind, if I really were that hard on myself I would be better in the many areas that I am lacking in. I would be a good diabetic, I wouldn’t be fat, I would exercise, I would eat better, I would have finished school etc. I would be me, just without all the big flaws, mostly the ones that seem to relate to diabetes and that at times seem to cripple me.
“Melissa, I never knew you felt this way, you don’t really talk about it,” this after she saw that I had a whole blog about diabetes and had read some of my posts. Her surprise was an eye opener to me because I see myself as a perso
n with a flashing neon sign on my forehead blinking: I have diabetes; I’m a mess. I mean, shit, this disease kicks my ass on a daily basis, so it is hard for me to imagine that someone who is around me all day does not see it.
When I broke down a few weeks ago and sobbed to my boss about how overwhelmed I was by the disease and how I was not in good control she said that she never knew; that I seemed so in control of it. Ha!
My perspective on my disease is very different from what those around me see. It is not nagging at their thoughts 24 hours a day. There is not the ever-present reminder of the disease in the pump attached to them all the time or the beeping of said pump at the most inopportune times. Yes, there view is quite different from my own but I’m hoping that with some more sharing on my part that they will gain more insight into the day-to-day protocol of this disease and that I will be able to see myself as so much more than my disease.
perspective noun a way of regarding situations or topics etc.; 2. the appearance of things relative to one another as determined by their distance from the viewer
Perspective is a funny thing. You see things one way, I see them in another. There is no right or wrong perspective necessarily, just different ones. A couple of things a newer friend (who I see daily since I also work with her) said to me got me thinking about my own perspective on things.
“Melissa you are too hard on yourself”
I smirk and say “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before…”
It makes me feel good to hear this yet I still don’t believe it. In my mind, if I really were that hard on myself I would be better in the many areas that I am lacking in. I would be a good diabetic, I wouldn’t be fat, I would exercise, I would eat better, I would have finished school etc. I would be me, just without all the big flaws, mostly the ones that seem to relate to diabetes and that at times seem to cripple me.
“Melissa, I never knew you felt this way, you don’t really talk about it,” this after she saw that I had a whole blog about diabetes and had read some of my posts. Her surprise was an eye opener to me because I see myself as a perso
n with a flashing neon sign on my forehead blinking: I have diabetes; I’m a mess. I mean, shit, this disease kicks my ass on a daily basis, so it is hard for me to imagine that someone who is around me all day does not see it.When I broke down a few weeks ago and sobbed to my boss about how overwhelmed I was by the disease and how I was not in good control she said that she never knew; that I seemed so in control of it. Ha!
My perspective on my disease is very different from what those around me see. It is not nagging at their thoughts 24 hours a day. There is not the ever-present reminder of the disease in the pump attached to them all the time or the beeping of said pump at the most inopportune times. Yes, there view is quite different from my own but I’m hoping that with some more sharing on my part that they will gain more insight into the day-to-day protocol of this disease and that I will be able to see myself as so much more than my disease.
2/01/2007
Shift, Game On, Crash, Broken Record
Shift
The holidays brought with them chaos, stress, tons of food and libations all around. In my world if felt like school, with its final exams and ten-page-papers due, were completed only minutes before Christmas. Diabetes care was an afterthought at best, but the guilt of noncompliance weighed heavily on my subconscious. There was simply too much going on, to much life to experience. I was not going to worry about this disease right then; I would do what I wanted, when I wanted.
Fast forward a few weeks. I was tired of feeling beaten down by this disease so I began a half-hearted effort at control. Two bad diabetes days in a row & I broke down. Day 1 highlights were a low in the middle of the night, then a rebound high accompanied by a viscous headache that Advil could not conquer, only 3 hours spent at work topped off by a blood sugar in the 500’s. I berated myself and promised that tomorrow I would do better. Day 2’s highlight was not having any insulin with me to fill my empty pump reservoir, ensuing in a nice long drive from and to work in which I got super-angry and frustrated at myself and diabetes too.
My little world was on a crash course to disaster and I needed to fix it NOW. I felt a shift in my thinking, really my whole state of mind. I turned my anger action. I even had a ‘talk’ (more like a collapse) with my boss about the trouble I was having dealing with my disease and I my concern that it was affecting my work and that I was on top of it. My boss was amazingly supportive and had no concerns about my performance. I was a guilty/lucky girl. Since said boss is wise in the ways of diabetes I opened myself up to some accountability on my part but I was ready for the challenge.
Game On.
First & foremost I needed to be able to see what the blood sugars I was doing looked like. Logging is not my forte and I don’t remember the last time I actually did it. I got the super-cool Excel logbook from Kevin and began. (Thank you Kevin!) I told myself that not matter what the numbers were I needed to log them. The first few days were brilliant: lots of tests and surprisingly decent blood sugars. The weekend was an a bit of an eye-opener in that I did not do as many tests as I thought, but that was okay, I could do more. I saw my therapist that Monday, and she was impressed with my efforts. I expressed to her my fear that it wouldn’t last and that I would be back to my old lazy ways soon. She gave me a pep talk about doing it for only me.
The next week I continued plugging in my numbers & watching the graphs, but slowly the novelty of the game of trying to watch the numbers and keep them in range was wearing off some but I was still in the game. I made an appt. with my Endo. for May and gotten blood work done. My A1C was better than I had expected, at 9.8. Not very good I know, but I was anticipating much worse. This was a workable number to bring down my May when I would get another done.
All in all, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. This time felt different. This time I would make some real, lasting changes.
Crash
The following week all my bets where off since I caught an awful cold that left me in bed for days. Later that same week, my husband’s grandfather died, the dog was sick, there arrangements to be made, wakes to attend, the dog to get to the vet, burying Grandpa, in the morning and then our dog in the afternoon and true to form I paid not attention to my disease.
The cold has turned into a sinus infection, I feel like crap and my blood sugars (the few I actually do) are crap and I’m back to my usual ways.
Broken Record
So I feel like a broken record, stuck in this endless cycle. This endless cycle of getting fed up with feeling like crap because I barely take care of my diabetes, vowing to do something about it, taking action, which invariably lasts only a short time, feeling like crap again, feeling guilty for all of this and then we are back to being fed up.
I find it really hard to blog about because who wants to hear about it all the time? I don’t feel as if I have the right to complain about a disease that (for the most part) I do the bare minimum to control. You get what you give, and I am giving little. Sometimes the desire to feel good, makes the finger sticks, the site changes, the logging and paying attention to it all seem possible. But more often than not it seems like I am just not able to deal with it on top of life itself. I am baffled by those of you who get frustrated about not blousing correctly for a meal or drink when I can’t manage to make myself even bolus for a meal? What piece am I missing? Am I just some crazy hypochondriac freak who makes herself sick (by not testing, blousing etc.) so she can be lazy and not accomplish more? I keep hoping for one of those “Eureka” moments during therapy where I am given the reason for my behavior but it hasn’t happened yet.
The holidays brought with them chaos, stress, tons of food and libations all around. In my world if felt like school, with its final exams and ten-page-papers due, were completed only minutes before Christmas. Diabetes care was an afterthought at best, but the guilt of noncompliance weighed heavily on my subconscious. There was simply too much going on, to much life to experience. I was not going to worry about this disease right then; I would do what I wanted, when I wanted.
Fast forward a few weeks. I was tired of feeling beaten down by this disease so I began a half-hearted effort at control. Two bad diabetes days in a row & I broke down. Day 1 highlights were a low in the middle of the night, then a rebound high accompanied by a viscous headache that Advil could not conquer, only 3 hours spent at work topped off by a blood sugar in the 500’s. I berated myself and promised that tomorrow I would do better. Day 2’s highlight was not having any insulin with me to fill my empty pump reservoir, ensuing in a nice long drive from and to work in which I got super-angry and frustrated at myself and diabetes too.
My little world was on a crash course to disaster and I needed to fix it NOW. I felt a shift in my thinking, really my whole state of mind. I turned my anger action. I even had a ‘talk’ (more like a collapse) with my boss about the trouble I was having dealing with my disease and I my concern that it was affecting my work and that I was on top of it. My boss was amazingly supportive and had no concerns about my performance. I was a guilty/lucky girl. Since said boss is wise in the ways of diabetes I opened myself up to some accountability on my part but I was ready for the challenge.
Game On.
First & foremost I needed to be able to see what the blood sugars I was doing looked like. Logging is not my forte and I don’t remember the last time I actually did it. I got the super-cool Excel logbook from Kevin and began. (Thank you Kevin!) I told myself that not matter what the numbers were I needed to log them. The first few days were brilliant: lots of tests and surprisingly decent blood sugars. The weekend was an a bit of an eye-opener in that I did not do as many tests as I thought, but that was okay, I could do more. I saw my therapist that Monday, and she was impressed with my efforts. I expressed to her my fear that it wouldn’t last and that I would be back to my old lazy ways soon. She gave me a pep talk about doing it for only me.
The next week I continued plugging in my numbers & watching the graphs, but slowly the novelty of the game of trying to watch the numbers and keep them in range was wearing off some but I was still in the game. I made an appt. with my Endo. for May and gotten blood work done. My A1C was better than I had expected, at 9.8. Not very good I know, but I was anticipating much worse. This was a workable number to bring down my May when I would get another done.
All in all, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. This time felt different. This time I would make some real, lasting changes.
Crash
The following week all my bets where off since I caught an awful cold that left me in bed for days. Later that same week, my husband’s grandfather died, the dog was sick, there arrangements to be made, wakes to attend, the dog to get to the vet, burying Grandpa, in the morning and then our dog in the afternoon and true to form I paid not attention to my disease.
The cold has turned into a sinus infection, I feel like crap and my blood sugars (the few I actually do) are crap and I’m back to my usual ways.
Broken Record
So I feel like a broken record, stuck in this endless cycle. This endless cycle of getting fed up with feeling like crap because I barely take care of my diabetes, vowing to do something about it, taking action, which invariably lasts only a short time, feeling like crap again, feeling guilty for all of this and then we are back to being fed up.
I find it really hard to blog about because who wants to hear about it all the time? I don’t feel as if I have the right to complain about a disease that (for the most part) I do the bare minimum to control. You get what you give, and I am giving little. Sometimes the desire to feel good, makes the finger sticks, the site changes, the logging and paying attention to it all seem possible. But more often than not it seems like I am just not able to deal with it on top of life itself. I am baffled by those of you who get frustrated about not blousing correctly for a meal or drink when I can’t manage to make myself even bolus for a meal? What piece am I missing? Am I just some crazy hypochondriac freak who makes herself sick (by not testing, blousing etc.) so she can be lazy and not accomplish more? I keep hoping for one of those “Eureka” moments during therapy where I am given the reason for my behavior but it hasn’t happened yet.
12/13/2006
June 27, 1985
Cleaning my desk today at home I came across my newspaper debut. Front page of the 2nd section. Human interest story, the topic you guessed it - diabetes. Though much of the articles (there were 2 versions) are in my memory I still read through them. Oh My God - how embarrassing. What a dork I was, but really what 11 year old wasn’t? I wish I had the kind of scanner that would let me scan the entire article legibly so you could see it but I don’t & I’m too lazy & short on time right now to re-type the whole thing. But 2 parts stick out:
"Having diabetes can be a pain....but it can be okay too especially when you get interviewed. Maybe I’ll get famous and make a lot of money." The tears start. What I wouldn’t give to have that naivety of childhood back, even for a day.
Not only is what I (apparently) said in this article but also how the author writes are both hilarious. " With that petite Melissa, who will be a sixth grader throws back her head and laughs. "Ha" she guffaws with a man-sized force that seems to come all the way up from her white tennis shoes and turned downed socks." Near the end the article reads: Children with diabetes must first accept the disease and take responsibility for it. Melissa seems to have done that well. Big drops falling from my eyes now. What the hell happened? Like it is really that easy? Step one: Accept. Step Two: Responsibility and you’ve got diabetes mastered. Yeah right. What happened to that girl who could simply take this disease in stride instead of fighting it every step of the way?
She had only shared her body with diabetes living a life of needles, blood sugars, food plans and urine testing for a little over 2 years. All with the help of incredible parents and an amazing health care team. She was young strong and full of hopes and dreams for the future with a disease that gave her a bit of uniqueness which was fine with her since she liked to stand out.
Would it be too weird to say that I miss that little girls so much? She was so strong, so confident and yes, so innocent.
This was before the seizures from extremely low blood sugars left her barely awake, vomitting for days and often included a late night trip to the ER, and once or twice a visit from the paramedics. This was before the novelty of being different and the not being able to do whatever she wanted when she wanted wore off. Before it wasn’t so cool to be different anymore. Before the 2 weeks out of the year that she went to camp were what she lived for and camp was where she felt most alive surrounded by others like her. Before the combination of diabetes and depression brought her life to a screeching halt (more than once) and led to some scary scenes, serious U-turns and not-so-subtle family interventions. Before she questioned her self every single day because she couldn’t seem to live amicably with this disease.
This was also before a ton of amazing things that she would not undo for anything happened. Pivotal learning experiences, good fortune, awe-inspiring moments, great friends, amazing family and true love that have all made her who she is today but there are parts she wishes she had held on tighter to. The strength, the courage, the faith, and the acceptance that she had as a little girl.
"Having diabetes can be a pain....but it can be okay too especially when you get interviewed. Maybe I’ll get famous and make a lot of money." The tears start. What I wouldn’t give to have that naivety of childhood back, even for a day.
Not only is what I (apparently) said in this article but also how the author writes are both hilarious. " With that petite Melissa, who will be a sixth grader throws back her head and laughs. "Ha" she guffaws with a man-sized force that seems to come all the way up from her white tennis shoes and turned downed socks." Near the end the article reads: Children with diabetes must first accept the disease and take responsibility for it. Melissa seems to have done that well. Big drops falling from my eyes now. What the hell happened? Like it is really that easy? Step one: Accept. Step Two: Responsibility and you’ve got diabetes mastered. Yeah right. What happened to that girl who could simply take this disease in stride instead of fighting it every step of the way?
She had only shared her body with diabetes living a life of needles, blood sugars, food plans and urine testing for a little over 2 years. All with the help of incredible parents and an amazing health care team. She was young strong and full of hopes and dreams for the future with a disease that gave her a bit of uniqueness which was fine with her since she liked to stand out.
Would it be too weird to say that I miss that little girls so much? She was so strong, so confident and yes, so innocent.
This was before the seizures from extremely low blood sugars left her barely awake, vomitting for days and often included a late night trip to the ER, and once or twice a visit from the paramedics. This was before the novelty of being different and the not being able to do whatever she wanted when she wanted wore off. Before it wasn’t so cool to be different anymore. Before the 2 weeks out of the year that she went to camp were what she lived for and camp was where she felt most alive surrounded by others like her. Before the combination of diabetes and depression brought her life to a screeching halt (more than once) and led to some scary scenes, serious U-turns and not-so-subtle family interventions. Before she questioned her self every single day because she couldn’t seem to live amicably with this disease.
This was also before a ton of amazing things that she would not undo for anything happened. Pivotal learning experiences, good fortune, awe-inspiring moments, great friends, amazing family and true love that have all made her who she is today but there are parts she wishes she had held on tighter to. The strength, the courage, the faith, and the acceptance that she had as a little girl.
12/01/2006
Addendum to "Dealing with it"
I left out a big part of what helped/helps me deal with all this: music
Music has always marked certain times and places in my life. The songs that meant something to me at that time are tightly tied to those memories. Sometimes it’s a line from the song, other times just the tune. It's a random mix some of it a bit cheesy but it's what touched me.
Here’s the playlist from the past few months:
- Leave It All Behind – Nya Jade (leave it all behind - the chaos and the fear)
- My Denial – Nya Jade ("here in my denial I stand trial for what I've done. Redemption..")
- Too Little Too Late – JoJo (This one brought tears to my eyes just about every time, not wanting to ever have to say I did too little, too late to figth diabetes)
- Don’t Look Back – Antigone Rising
- Lucky Denver Mint – Jimmy Eat World ("you're not bigger than this, not better, why can't you see...")
- All These Things That I’ve Done – The Killers (dealing withthe guilt)
- I Can’t Take It – Tegan and Sarah
- Live Again – Better Than Ezra (finding the strenght to really live not just get by)
- All at Once – the Fray ("sometimes the hardest thing & the rigth thing are the same")
- Let Go – Frou Frou (let go of all the anger at diabetes)
- Jumper – Third Eye Blind ("cut ties with all the lies you've been living in")
11/30/2006
Dealing with it.
Yes, I had a chronic illness but did I really have to feel so crappy, so often and beat myself up over it?
I made an appt. with my ‘shrink’ (now located literally across the street) to take a stab at figuring why I was letting this happen.
One visit consisted mostly of me crying and telling her how much I hated diabetes. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to deal with it. It was all my fault. I didn’t want to feel like crap. She let me get it all out, and then gently proposed the idea that I did in fact have a choice in all this. Decide you are not going to take care of yourself, and let what happens, happen and stop beating yourself up over it. Or do something. This blaming myself was not helping at all.
Over the next few weeks she reminded me of things I already knew, yet needed to hear. Diabetes was not going anywhere so deal with it. That it’s okay to be angry but don’t take it out on myself. Life is all about choices. I realized I was not okay with letting my health be left completely up to fate. Slowly my desire to feel good, see better numbers and not feel guilty won out over the anger and my attitude shifted. I also can to realize that this whole process of getting fed up with diabetes, getting angry, then fighting back, is an ongoing one. It will happen again. What changes is my ability to deal with it not hurt myself as much the next time I fall. Fall, I will, I’m sure of it. This is a disease that pushes its way into every nook & cranny of my life and sometimes the good care & control is just too much on top of life happening all around me and that’s okay, I’m getting better & better at picking myself up.
I can honestly say that I am doing better. Better but not perfect or great. I don’t think diabetes care will ever be easy or second nature to me but I think it can be something I can make work for me.
I made an appt. with my ‘shrink’ (now located literally across the street) to take a stab at figuring why I was letting this happen.
One visit consisted mostly of me crying and telling her how much I hated diabetes. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to deal with it. It was all my fault. I didn’t want to feel like crap. She let me get it all out, and then gently proposed the idea that I did in fact have a choice in all this. Decide you are not going to take care of yourself, and let what happens, happen and stop beating yourself up over it. Or do something. This blaming myself was not helping at all.
Over the next few weeks she reminded me of things I already knew, yet needed to hear. Diabetes was not going anywhere so deal with it. That it’s okay to be angry but don’t take it out on myself. Life is all about choices. I realized I was not okay with letting my health be left completely up to fate. Slowly my desire to feel good, see better numbers and not feel guilty won out over the anger and my attitude shifted. I also can to realize that this whole process of getting fed up with diabetes, getting angry, then fighting back, is an ongoing one. It will happen again. What changes is my ability to deal with it not hurt myself as much the next time I fall. Fall, I will, I’m sure of it. This is a disease that pushes its way into every nook & cranny of my life and sometimes the good care & control is just too much on top of life happening all around me and that’s okay, I’m getting better & better at picking myself up.
I can honestly say that I am doing better. Better but not perfect or great. I don’t think diabetes care will ever be easy or second nature to me but I think it can be something I can make work for me.
11/19/2006
Diabetes Immersion Therapy
I think part of the reason I thought a job with ADA would be a perfect fit for me is because I thought that if I was immersed in diabetes than I would really have to get my shit together. Surrounded by diabetes information, advocates and those familiar with my plight, all working towards the same goal there was no way I could be the same slacker. My idyllic plan of diabetes care being all of the sudden easy didn’t’ pan out exactly as I had envisioned.
First of all, the whole job changing/new job thing was a bit stressful and much hard work. I started right before it got crazy busy and then it was full speed ahead. I am now trying to catch up on all the things that are regularly part of my job but got pushed to the side while Walk season was in full swing. This took a toll on my blood sugars and there were some pretty ugly roller-coaster days.
Secondly, just because the people I now worked with got diabetes didn’t mean that they instantly got me or how the disease affects me. I had to show and they had to learn what happens to me when I’m low, how highs make me feel and bottom line they are not my diabetes police. It is wonderful to work every day amidst those who understand diabetes better than most and have a much better idea of what diabetes care entails but each person’s diabetes is so personal and they got that too, so I had to lead the way.
Thirdly, I was embarrassed at my lack of control. A couple of my co-workers seemed pretty excited to have some one board who "got it"; someone who worked hard, lived with diabetes every day and had done something right to stave off the complications. Me? Hell no. I honestly believe that I have made it this far by pure luck. I wanted to be that person they saw me as, but knew I wasn’t even close.
First of all, the whole job changing/new job thing was a bit stressful and much hard work. I started right before it got crazy busy and then it was full speed ahead. I am now trying to catch up on all the things that are regularly part of my job but got pushed to the side while Walk season was in full swing. This took a toll on my blood sugars and there were some pretty ugly roller-coaster days.
Secondly, just because the people I now worked with got diabetes didn’t mean that they instantly got me or how the disease affects me. I had to show and they had to learn what happens to me when I’m low, how highs make me feel and bottom line they are not my diabetes police. It is wonderful to work every day amidst those who understand diabetes better than most and have a much better idea of what diabetes care entails but each person’s diabetes is so personal and they got that too, so I had to lead the way.
Thirdly, I was embarrassed at my lack of control. A couple of my co-workers seemed pretty excited to have some one board who "got it"; someone who worked hard, lived with diabetes every day and had done something right to stave off the complications. Me? Hell no. I honestly believe that I have made it this far by pure luck. I wanted to be that person they saw me as, but knew I wasn’t even close.
I heard about and saw firsthand those who had not been as lucky as me:
- A woman my age who had gotten a kidney from her sister in order to live.
- A name I recognized as someone I went to camp with was blind.
- Someone’s mother-in-law who was a double amputee.
- A volunteer who was on a liquid diet and near kidney-failure.
- A phone call from an old camp friend who had a double bypass (kidney & pancreas) last year and had news of all those MY AGE who were blind, had suffered strokes, kidney failure and amputations.
It was all too much. I took no better care of myself than these people (well except for the never drinking regular pop, even I couldn’t do that) and look at what happened to them. What the hell differnce did it make if I took better of myself? The complications were inevitable. At least I was doing my part by working at a diabetes organization; the rest didn’t matter. This defeatist attitude lasted for a while and then I began getting really sick of feeling sick all the time.
continued in the next post
11/16/2006
ER & Other Details of The Worst Phone Call Ever...
“Thank you for calling the American Diabetes Association. This is Melissa how my I help you?”
“Is this Melissa Sutton?”
“Yes, it is” I say distractedly, wondering what new task this phone call will entail. It’s Friday afternoon and I’m so ready for the weekend.
“Mrs. Sutton, your husband asked me to call you. I am a social worker with Akron General Medical Center in the ER.” She has my full attention now.
“Your husband is awake and alert but you need to get down here quickly but safely.”
I lose all feeling in my limbs and my heart plummets. Oh. My. God.
Luckily a co-worker from the Akron office (I was in Cleveland) was seated at the computer right by desk and when I asked her if she could tell me how to get to the hospital she said that she would take me there. So I told my boss my husband had been in a car accident and that I needed to leave and followed my co-worker to the parking lot. She made sure I had her cell phone number in case I got lost and then led the way. Not before asking if I needed her to actually go into the ER with me. I had only met her once before, this was not here problem, the woman had said “awake & alert”, he would be fine I told her no thank you.
On the way down I think I made some phone calls but it is all pretty sketchy. I know I did get a call from one of the other guys (who was in the car with Rich, en route to the cabin for camping) wives and even though she sounded quite panicked she really didn’t know much so I cranked the music & tried stay calm. The next call was from one of the Revs I used to work with at the church and she was definitely panicked & insisted that I not go to the ER alone. Shit. Shit. Shit. She had gotten news of the accident because initially my husband was so disoriented that he couldn’t remember that I had a new job or how to reach me. She said it did not sound good. I called my co-worker and asked her if she would mind coming in with me, explained why & she said no problem.
We got there, I felt low but was actually super high, but opted to not bolus for it since I had no idea what I was about to see or hear. After making sure that I was okay with some blood the social worker took me back to the trauma room where the first thing my dear husband said to me was that he was sorry. Sorry for getting in the accident and more so for not telling me that he loved he me when I left for work that morning. It was like a scene from "ER" with one doctor stitching up his hand and arm while another worked on his head. There were several large 'pads' on the floor beneath his head, stained pink from his blood. At first glance I thought there was no way they would be able to close the gashes on his elbow or head, but they did. Somehow I was able to stay in the room while they stitched him up; I found a strength I never knew I had. The suturing as they call it took hours and totaled about 50 stitches.
I was back & forth to the waiting room of the ER to make phone calls and give updates to the friends who had been in the car with him, my sister who came to be with me and the minister who came to lend support. None of the other 3 guys who were in the car with Rich were seriously hurt. Thank God. I couldn’t imagine having to tell him that his childhood friend was in worse shape than he was. They all had blood on their clothing which I later found out was from Rich. This assembled crew would not leave until they had seen Rich and were assured that he was okay, relatively speaking.Finally around 10 pm we were taken up to a room. He was in so much pain and bandaged up like a mummy. After making sure he was settled I headed for home because he was so worried about critters there. I was in a sort of fog and got lost on the way home. The animals were happy to see me but the house felt so incredibly empty.
The next 3 days were a bit stressful. No broken bones or serious concussion, just some gruesome lacerations, soreness and serious pain. He was lucky it hadn't been worse. Over the next few weeks I would hear this phrase repeated often. "He was lucky." While part of me knew he was very lucky, another part of me kept thinking that luck would have meant none of this happening. Saturday was the worst. Several family and friends had said that would come visit him that day so I didn't call anyone to come be with me at the hospital while I was with Rich. It was a very long day since no one came until that evening. The pain meds were making Rich nauseous and there was an awful projectile vomiting incident that scared me. My mom had offered to come just to be with me, and at first I declined, telling her there was no need for her to drive 3.5 hours, but after this I asked her to come. She said she was planning on coming even though I said I would be okay.
It was such a relief when I saw my parents walk into the hospital room the next morning. This was all so foreign and scary to me. They stayed the day and with her background as an RN my mom made sure I asked the right questions and knew what was going on. My dad watched some game with Rich, keeping his mind off the pain.
Finally on Monday he was released and we went home. We both exhausted as hospitals are not very conducive for sleep for patients and sleep was elusive for me as you might imagine. Rich did not go to work the rest of the week, but I had to since it was days before Cleveland America's Walk for Diabetes and there was tons to do. Family & friends pitched in with food, support, dog walking and visiting Rich while I was at work. Cards and wishes of speedy recovery poured in from friends, family & the church family. Diabetes was basically ignored but in turn was quite vocal about it with skyrocketing blood sugars and quite a few lows at the hospital.
The healing has slowly but surely happened. We took the last stitch out last Sunday and there are almost no scabs now. He will have some decent scars on his head, I'm sure. The real magnitude of the whole thing hit me more in bits & pieces. Terrifying thoughts that I could have lost my husband, my life would come out of nowhere. Tears spilling down my cheeks on the way to work for no good reason and break-downs over nothing in particular.
A not so subtle reminder of how precious life is and how kind humans have the capacity to be.
“Is this Melissa Sutton?”
“Yes, it is” I say distractedly, wondering what new task this phone call will entail. It’s Friday afternoon and I’m so ready for the weekend.
“Mrs. Sutton, your husband asked me to call you. I am a social worker with Akron General Medical Center in the ER.” She has my full attention now.
“Your husband is awake and alert but you need to get down here quickly but safely.”
I lose all feeling in my limbs and my heart plummets. Oh. My. God.
Luckily a co-worker from the Akron office (I was in Cleveland) was seated at the computer right by desk and when I asked her if she could tell me how to get to the hospital she said that she would take me there. So I told my boss my husband had been in a car accident and that I needed to leave and followed my co-worker to the parking lot. She made sure I had her cell phone number in case I got lost and then led the way. Not before asking if I needed her to actually go into the ER with me. I had only met her once before, this was not here problem, the woman had said “awake & alert”, he would be fine I told her no thank you.
On the way down I think I made some phone calls but it is all pretty sketchy. I know I did get a call from one of the other guys (who was in the car with Rich, en route to the cabin for camping) wives and even though she sounded quite panicked she really didn’t know much so I cranked the music & tried stay calm. The next call was from one of the Revs I used to work with at the church and she was definitely panicked & insisted that I not go to the ER alone. Shit. Shit. Shit. She had gotten news of the accident because initially my husband was so disoriented that he couldn’t remember that I had a new job or how to reach me. She said it did not sound good. I called my co-worker and asked her if she would mind coming in with me, explained why & she said no problem.
We got there, I felt low but was actually super high, but opted to not bolus for it since I had no idea what I was about to see or hear. After making sure that I was okay with some blood the social worker took me back to the trauma room where the first thing my dear husband said to me was that he was sorry. Sorry for getting in the accident and more so for not telling me that he loved he me when I left for work that morning. It was like a scene from "ER" with one doctor stitching up his hand and arm while another worked on his head. There were several large 'pads' on the floor beneath his head, stained pink from his blood. At first glance I thought there was no way they would be able to close the gashes on his elbow or head, but they did. Somehow I was able to stay in the room while they stitched him up; I found a strength I never knew I had. The suturing as they call it took hours and totaled about 50 stitches.
I was back & forth to the waiting room of the ER to make phone calls and give updates to the friends who had been in the car with him, my sister who came to be with me and the minister who came to lend support. None of the other 3 guys who were in the car with Rich were seriously hurt. Thank God. I couldn’t imagine having to tell him that his childhood friend was in worse shape than he was. They all had blood on their clothing which I later found out was from Rich. This assembled crew would not leave until they had seen Rich and were assured that he was okay, relatively speaking.Finally around 10 pm we were taken up to a room. He was in so much pain and bandaged up like a mummy. After making sure he was settled I headed for home because he was so worried about critters there. I was in a sort of fog and got lost on the way home. The animals were happy to see me but the house felt so incredibly empty.
The next 3 days were a bit stressful. No broken bones or serious concussion, just some gruesome lacerations, soreness and serious pain. He was lucky it hadn't been worse. Over the next few weeks I would hear this phrase repeated often. "He was lucky." While part of me knew he was very lucky, another part of me kept thinking that luck would have meant none of this happening. Saturday was the worst. Several family and friends had said that would come visit him that day so I didn't call anyone to come be with me at the hospital while I was with Rich. It was a very long day since no one came until that evening. The pain meds were making Rich nauseous and there was an awful projectile vomiting incident that scared me. My mom had offered to come just to be with me, and at first I declined, telling her there was no need for her to drive 3.5 hours, but after this I asked her to come. She said she was planning on coming even though I said I would be okay.
It was such a relief when I saw my parents walk into the hospital room the next morning. This was all so foreign and scary to me. They stayed the day and with her background as an RN my mom made sure I asked the right questions and knew what was going on. My dad watched some game with Rich, keeping his mind off the pain.
Finally on Monday he was released and we went home. We both exhausted as hospitals are not very conducive for sleep for patients and sleep was elusive for me as you might imagine. Rich did not go to work the rest of the week, but I had to since it was days before Cleveland America's Walk for Diabetes and there was tons to do. Family & friends pitched in with food, support, dog walking and visiting Rich while I was at work. Cards and wishes of speedy recovery poured in from friends, family & the church family. Diabetes was basically ignored but in turn was quite vocal about it with skyrocketing blood sugars and quite a few lows at the hospital.
The healing has slowly but surely happened. We took the last stitch out last Sunday and there are almost no scabs now. He will have some decent scars on his head, I'm sure. The real magnitude of the whole thing hit me more in bits & pieces. Terrifying thoughts that I could have lost my husband, my life would come out of nowhere. Tears spilling down my cheeks on the way to work for no good reason and break-downs over nothing in particular.
A not so subtle reminder of how precious life is and how kind humans have the capacity to be.
Hello, Old Friends....
It has been WAY TOO LONG since I have made an appearance here in the blog-o-sphere. What can I say? Life has been full over here. Here’s an abbreviated list of what has been happening:
Got a new job which does not allow for ‘blog time’ at work as the old one did.- Started new job just in time for “Walk” one of the biggest events of the year so I worked and worked and worked and worked. I am not complaining - working for something you are passionate about, surrounded by others who are passionate about the cause as well is amazing.
- School started – class 2 nights a week plus homework.
- My husband was in a horrendous car accident and in the hospital for 3 days. I got a terrifying phone call from a social worker from the Trauma dept. of a local hospital that I hope to never get again. I was reminded of the kindness of friends and strangers and was able to witness “ER” like scenes firsthand without becoming ill.
- I crashed a burned a few times after all the stress but have managed to crawl back up to normalcy (or as close to it as is possible for me).
- I have made some peace with Diabetes and remembered what an invaluable source of strength this world of diabetes blogs is.
So here I am, full of all sorts thoughts, frustrations, feelings, emotions, observations and general nonesense to share with you.
8/08/2006
I Got It!
Remember that job that I didn’t get that I thought would be perfect for me?
Well.... 5 months later I did get it. (Can’t help breaking into a stupid grin here)
I have known for almost a week now but it didn’t seem real yet and I guess I was a bit superstitious in that I thought if I blogged about it, it might not come to fruition. My notice has been put in at my current-boring-job (that-I-sort of-fell-until-where-the-benefits-are-good- and-the-people-are-really-nice-but-it’s-time-to-move-on) and my last day there is this Friday. In a word YIPPEE!!! The announcement has been mad to the whole church and a good-bye lunch is planned for this Wednesday. Most of the family & friends know. I have a start date at the new place. I am super excited. I guess it really is happening.
You are probably wondering where and what this job is. I will be the Coordinator for the Cleveland area chapter of the American Diabetes Association! I have met at least some of the people in the office over the years through my involvement with the annual walk and am excited to work with these fun, positive people. Of course I will still be doing some office work and administrative duties but it will for a cause that I am passionate and knowledgeable about. I will also get to do more hands-on type stuff.
This job just feels so right. When I was a kid the only thing I ever wanted to do as far as a career was to help kids with diabetes or run a camp for kids with diabetes. Well this job is not either of those exactly but it sure is closer than what I have been doing and I can’t wait.
Well.... 5 months later I did get it. (Can’t help breaking into a stupid grin here)
I have known for almost a week now but it didn’t seem real yet and I guess I was a bit superstitious in that I thought if I blogged about it, it might not come to fruition. My notice has been put in at my current-boring-job (that-I-sort of-fell-until-where-the-benefits-are-good- and-the-people-are-really-nice-but-it’s-time-to-move-on) and my last day there is this Friday. In a word YIPPEE!!! The announcement has been mad to the whole church and a good-bye lunch is planned for this Wednesday. Most of the family & friends know. I have a start date at the new place. I am super excited. I guess it really is happening.
You are probably wondering where and what this job is. I will be the Coordinator for the Cleveland area chapter of the American Diabetes Association! I have met at least some of the people in the office over the years through my involvement with the annual walk and am excited to work with these fun, positive people. Of course I will still be doing some office work and administrative duties but it will for a cause that I am passionate and knowledgeable about. I will also get to do more hands-on type stuff.
This job just feels so right. When I was a kid the only thing I ever wanted to do as far as a career was to help kids with diabetes or run a camp for kids with diabetes. Well this job is not either of those exactly but it sure is closer than what I have been doing and I can’t wait.
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