Today I attended Farpoint Con in Timonium, MD. Now, I wouldn’t consider myself “into” the whole “nerd convention” scene, but as it happens, I am a fan of the Animaniacs, and Pinky & The Brain. Rob Paulsen, voice of Yakko Warner and Pinky, was going to be there, so I decided to brave the nerd fest and go with my boys to meet him. He was genuinely nice and gracious to his fans. I must have been all gushy when I went up to him because he treated me to this special serenade:
Thanks, Rob! It was really fun meeting you.
I haven’t written in the blog much over the last several months, not because I haven’t been knitting, but because I have been obsessed with a new aspect of my life. Well, it’s not so new. But my approach is. I suppose I ought to explain.
In October 2010, on the same day that my beloved cat Tegan passed away, of all things, my doctor looked me squarely in the eye, without an ounce of sympathy and quite a bit of sternness in her voice, and handed me a diagnosis of diabetes. Knowing as I did that I was going to have to leave her office and go straight to the vet with my cat to put her to sleep, the simple words that she used hit me like a slap. Not that I wasn’t expecting them. I had been “pre-diabetic” for a number of years and knew that my blood sugars had been inching in the wrong direction for some time. I’ve heard that with diet and exercise, some people can reverse the outcome of pre-diabetes and somehow not develop the full-on disease. I am neither a food zealot nor an exercise guru, as I am fairly convinced it would have taken both extremes to change any outcomes for me. So, whether the doctor in question intended the outcome to make me feel this way or not, I started feeling as if the reason why I have diabetes was My Fault.
Nevermind that I have a strong family history of diabetes on both sides of my ancestry. Nevermind that I was insulin dependent, despite healthy eating, during my second pregnancy. Somehow I felt as if I had failed the pre-diabetes entrance exam and brought this disease wholly upon myself.
What I realized recently, after making even more lifestyle changes and taking oral medications that were making me feel sick, Is that while I can take responsibility for having made some poor eating choices in my past, and will probably never be perfect in that regard, I can’t always control what my body does with the food I eat. And guess what? I’ve found out that even if I have a “perfect” food day, or a run of near-perfect days, my blood sugar’s still too high. And so maybe? Just maybe, it’s not really all my fault.
So, I decided that it’s time to give my body what it really needs–insulin. I don’t know why so many people jump through so many hoops to avoid doing the insulin thing. Maybe I’m weird that I don’t mind giving myself the shots. But, the truth is, I do feel better since doing them.
Still, there are many things about having diabetes that clearly suck.
- While I don’t mind having to take insulin shots, I do mind having to stop what I’m doing to take them. (Like I said, I’m weird.) Yeah, they come in a pen-like dispenser and I don’t have to draw up syringes anymore, but still. Dinner arrives and I want to dig in, but wait–I have to shoot up.
- French fries are not my friends. Damnit.
- Chocolate cake… le sigh… see above. Double Damnit.
- My most recent jewelry acquisition? My brand-new, shiny titanium medic-alert bracelet. Ok, so I managed to incorporate my favorite color and a peace sign, making the most un-cool bracelet in the world kinda cool, but still. Isn’t the big red “D” on my forehead enough? (Wait, you can’t see it? It’s there… I can feel it as a constant reminder. I just know it is…)
- Pasta… I miss you. I’ve found low carb options that are basically tasteless and “miracle noodles” that look kinda scary and I’m afraid to open them because they look like giant tentacles suspended in liquid and I’m afraid they might actually be alive. (Shudder.)
Despite all of this, which clearly sucks–I’ve said that, right? It clearly sucks. I am determined somehow to make friends with diabetes. It’s that, or be miserable and resentful for the rest of my life. And yeah, right now, I feel that way a lot of the time, especially while it’s all so new and my insulin levels still aren’t quite right enough to give me even one “normal” day. Not yet. But it’s inching in the right direction, I hope. And I’m learning a lot about myself in the process. I’m not happy about it and patience and understanding, rather than blaming the fat girl for her own poor fate, are much appreciated. I can’t say I’m happy about the new club I’ve joined. But I’m looking forward to the day when I can feel at least a little bit normal again. It’s coming… I only hope it’s soon.
And, in the meantime? At least I’ve got my knitting.
I give you, on this day of sweetness in excess, the ultimate in Easter oxymorons:
A diamond is forever, right?
Haha, news to me, it appears that this is not true. About two years ago, I lost a diamond out of the ring and had it repaired and the diamond replaced. I continued wearing it until a couple of months ago, when I lost yet another diamond. This time the jeweler advised me to stop wearing the ring every day or have it reset, as the prongs were all wearing out after nearly 20 years of daily wear.
So, I decided to do something different. Instead of a separate wedding band with the ring, I decided to have it reset onto a wider band so I could wear it solo, as my wedding ring. It’s also now white gold instead of yellow (which is stronger), and the setting itself is flush against the band, decreasing the likelihood that I’ll catch it on every sweater sleeve along the way.
The end result? This:
Isn’t it a beauty? I’m loving it.