Dream a little dream - life after a cure...strange new world.

I don't see myself as a glass half full or half empty kind of person. I'm more in the "glass just has some friggin' liquid in it, move on" camp. So postulating about life without Type 1 Diabetes has never been high on my priority list. Of course, I've had those days where all I've want is to be "normal", but I really never get beyond that simple idea. I don't know what I would want from my "normal" diabetes-free life. Let me think about it.

Well, I would hope that this miracle cure would come sooner rather than later. I'm going on 14 years with this little sidekick, and somethings that feels like far too long. The bonuses of getting rid of diabetes would be enormous. Forget the health benefits for a second.

I wouldn't need a giant purse. I wouldn't have juice boxes in the back seat of my car prompting a new friend to jokingly ask if I, "Had a kid or something?" There wouldn't be test strips in every strange place imaginable (underwear drawer, anyone?) I would only have pruney fingers instead of creepy fingers after a long swim. My jeans' front pocket would be empty. I would be untethered, forever, instead of just for showers.

With all honestly, I think it would be hard to let it all go. Diabetes is woven into everything I do. I make my choices with Diabetes in mind. I see the world a certain way because of my life with Diabetes. It's a part of me, it's shaped me in a weird way. I haven't lost hope, but I've come to accept it.

The only thing that would really make me happy about living life without Diabetes would be the fact that I would have one less thing to worry about when I want to start a family some day. There are no guarantees in this life, but checking diabetes off the list of risk factors would be a dream come true.

I try not to focus on the things that scare me about living with this disease, because I'm trying to LIVE with it. I take each day as it comes, but for now I'm still planning for a future that includes Diabetes.

Maybe one day we will all be attending the first annual conference for "The Former Diabetes Online Community".

Quilt For Life

Yesterday, I took my first solo trip into DC to view Quilt for Life and meet a few OC bloggers.
The quilts were beautiful. As I wandered through the display a few of the quilts even made me a little emotional. Seeing diagnosis dates and birthdays only a few years apart was difficult. Looking at the faces who had known this disease longer than I have wasn't easier either. We need a cure, pure and simple.
Towards the end of the display I spotted Allison. A few minutes later she walked over, with open arms to greet me. Then we found Kevin, his wife, and the twins (absolutely adorable) a few rows away. After a photo op in front of the Capital and a chat in the grass, Kevin had to get back to work so we all said goodbye and parted ways for lunch. Allison, Wendy, and I walked to a Ruby Tuesday's a few blocks away. We covered a variety of topics during the trek and lunch; crazy endos, my northern New Jersey culture shock, college, JDRF walks, if my was blog pink or purple and more. After lunch we walked to the nearest Metro stop where I had to help Allison and Wendy navigate purchasing fare cards. I found this extremely entertaining, because I rarely use Metro. After we made it through the gate we said our goodbyes, and I made my way home.
It was interesting to put real live faces, voices, and personalities to some of the blogs I read. Like that final missing puzzle piece. If you haven't met another blogger yet, I would recommend that you try to make that happen. It's definitely a worthwhile experience.

I'm sure Allison will have a post later with pictures, so be on the look out!

Always means forever.

I’m usually okay with the idea that there may never be a cure for Type 1 Diabetes. I’m okay with it today, I’ll be okay with it tomorrow, and probably next week too. The only time I’m not okay is when I say something like, “I left my kit downstairs, as if I don’t always need it.” After the words slipped from my mouth last night, I just stood there. Always means forever. Forever isn’t a word I’m comfortable with. What else in my life will last forever? Season will change, most everything else will come and go, but diabetes will probably always be there. My approach to living with this disease is to take each day as it comes. I can’t change the bad numbers of yesterday. I can only deal with today. Complications may come in the future, even with the best of control, and all I can is do is my best right now. Uncertainty is not something I like though. I guess I’ve never really thought about idea of what growing old with Diabetes will mean. I expect it to be there for my first date, my wedding, when I have a child, and many other milestone events. But until last night I never thought that meant forever. Today I’m just not okay with the reality of always having diabetes.

Count me in.

With the New Year I see a theme of, “hopefully this will be the year they find a cure,” and all I want to do is take it with a grain of salt and move on. I don’t know what I would do if there was a cure, and I can’t spend too much time thinking about it. To tell you the truth, I don’t really think it’s coming soon. Call me crazy, call me a fool. I don’t think this is pessimistic. I’m just not putting more than a few eggs in the cure basket.

For the most part having Type 1 Diabetes does not bother me. I check my blood sugar, count carbs, and bolus, just like I breathe. Lows don’t faze me or make me crumble. It’s all automatic. Sometimes I am even thankful for it. I know for a fact my diet would be out of control if I ate the way my other teenage friends eat. Diabetes makes me feel smart. I can figure out a dose faster than my pump, I have a lot more knowledge of nutrition and general health than the average teen. Plus I have so many amazing new people in my life because of it.

But then sometimes I get to thinking, and with this disease having too much time to think is never good.

I think of the phone call I got from a friend before my sister and I were heading to pick her up. While she was on the other end, my hip was bleeding from a botched site change. I just wanted to be sitting on my couch talking to her about the silly boys we hang out with. Not holding gauze to the bleeder, and wiping IV prep on my stomach, while she was completely unaware.

I think of Kerri, and the fact I don’t want my wedding dress to have a pump pocket, or for that pump to be my something blue.

I think of the night I spent bowling with friends. While they downed Cokes and heaps of pancakes, I had only a quarter of what was on my plate. Then as I went up to for my turn to bowl, my tubing got blocked and my pump started beeping. I finished my frame, and off I scurried to the bathroom to fix that, while everyone else continued to laugh and joke.

I think of my older great aunt who continues to try to give me sugar free everything, because she believes it is the best thing for a diabetic. She will announce this in front of an entire restaurant. Or my aunt who is even a nurse, and doesn’t understand why I have to check my blood sugar when I drive.

I think of this next summer. How will I wear my pump and swim every day? What will it look like on my bathing suit? I’ve given up the freedom to just jump in, for disconnect boluses and better control.

I think of how I’ve given my parts of my childhood away to diabetes.

I think of my sister, who calls me a soldier for leaving in infusion sets when I say they hurt a bit. She says she could never do this, but I have had no choice.

I think of myself in the future. What will it look like? Will my diabetes still be there? What will that mean when it comes to relationships? Marriage? Motherhood?

I think of the little faces who are yet to know this disease, and of those who already do.

I think of my mother and the mothers of those other children who are just like me. They choose to have these children to care for, love, and embrace them, not a horrible disease.

I think of my fears.

Thoughts like these.

Make me wish for a cure this year too.

Oh They're Not Talking About Me.

In a recent Democratic Presidential Debate 2 Candidates, Dodd and Richardson, said they had plans to cure diabetes while in office. So of course my ears perked up when I heard this. But then words like prevention, obesity, and vending machines in schools came out of Dodd's and Richardson's mouth. I realized, they weren't talking about me and the other 5-10% of diabetics who have Type 1. Theye were talking about those glossy magazine adds for medication and those catchy commercials featuring overweight Type 2 diabetics. If Mr. Richardson or Mr. Dodd knew anything they would know that Diabetes in general is an umbrella term. They should have stated that they were talking about Type 2 Diabetes, because as far as I know these prevention plans and reduction soft drinks in schools, would not have helped me. As a bouncing 4-5 year old girl I was not drinking soda, and I was definitely not overweight. If anything at the onset of my Type 1 I was underweight and all I drank was a continuous stream of water. I can not believe the ignorance of some people who want to be the leaders of our country. They both sort of mentitioned stem cell research, but not in a way that made me believe they knew there is any other type of diabetes except type 2. The sad thing is they have researchers and people behind them that should be telling them the true facts, but instead they are allowed to make blanket statements and give misinformation to the uneducated public. THERE ARE more than TWO TYPES OF DIABETES!!!! And I wish ONE candidate was smart enough to know this and say they were planning for a cure for me and all of the other type 1's as well as the type 2's!