Talking with Your Hands

So, today's blog is only vaguely diabetes-related.  I was at my Dad's house yesterday, chatting with my Dad and my brother, J.  I was explaining to them about the Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM) that I just ordered (which will arrive on Monday! Yay!).  While I was explaining how it works and what it does, I was talking not just with my mouth, but also with my hands. For those of you that know me, this is NOT a surprise.  I have been known to get animated when I'm speaking.  I have almost hit people if they are next to me while I'm speaking, and my husband has been known to pat me on the leg in a signal to "shh" when I get excited...apparently I get louder as I get all into my subject. 

OK, back to the conversation with my brother and Dad.  Right in the middle of my explanation, my Dad interrupts (not a shocker to those of us who know and love him) and comments to my brother that I still wave my hands around while I talk.

This leads us back to an old family story.  When J. was in about 5th grade, which would put me in 2nd,  he had to give his first "big" in-front-of-the-class presentation.  It was about igloos.  He was practicing in my Dad's den, with Dad and I as an audience.

Now, my Dad was a banker.  Apparently, he wasn't particularly comfortable speaking in public, and joined a group called Toastmasters.  I am sure it is much more than this, but I had the impression that it was (is) a club for people to sit around and talk about talking.   So, my Dad was giving J pointers. He told him that he needed to enhance his speech with hand motions. So, J was trying to figure out hand motions to go with his talk.  As the wonderful, helpful, supportive, encouraging younger sister that I was, I was .totally. trying to help him out.  So, as he said the line, "There is a small hole in the top of the igloo that allowed the smoke to come out" (remember, we're talking igloos here), I made hand motions.  It would be much easier to show you, but since they are pretty basic, I should be able to talk you through them.

"There is a small hole..." made a circle with thumbs and forefingers

"at the top of the igloo..." pointing down at the circle with pointer finger of R hand

"that allows the smoke to come out..." curly-que motions in an upward spiral

Well, my brother saw me doing this and just burst out laughing.  Every time he would start again, I would do the motions again, and he would start laughing again. After many times, after my Dad told me to stop, J  finally got through it.  I was just trying to help.  Really. I have no idea how he did on his talk...neither does he.  We just remember this practice session.

For years, I could get him giggling just by doing the motions.  Didn't have to say a word.  Could stand behind my parents, where they couldn't see me, and make these motions, while he was trying to keep a straight face.  OK, so this might not've been the nicest thing ever.  But, I am the little sister. 

So, we are now both in our forties (he's farther into them than I am...and I don't let him forget it) and I can still just look at him, do those motions, and we both start giggling.  Even my Dad was chuckling about it last night.  (My Dad does NOT giggle.)  So, after a little trip down Memory Lane, I got off the detour and finished explaining about the CGM.  They think it'll be cool.  Me too.  Not shockingly, my brother already has a new nickname for me.  "'Borg", short for cyborg, of course.  I will add it to the list of nicknames....which is entirely too long for this blog. 

Isn't family fun?  :)

So, could this be an eating disorder?

I have to say, there are times when I wonder if diabetes should have it's own little section under eating disorders.  Now, all joking aside, I know that there actually IS an eating disorder associated with Type 1, where usually teen to early 20-something females don't use their insulin properly, and let their blood sugars run high, because then they lose weight.  Of course, it's from their body basically eating all their muscle.  But, they weigh less.  And do irreparable damage to their bodies.  Sad, yet true.

OK, back to joking.  Semi-seriously...I constantly think about food.  When I wake up, I wonder if I have time to shower and get ready before I have to eat.  Do I feel low?  Shaky?  Normal, not-ready-to-wake-up-yet shaky, or hypoglycemic shaky?  Must eat breakfast, although I have never in my life been much of a breakfast person.  (I LOVE breakfast food, but I like it more at dinner.  Or at least brunch.  Maybe it's because I've never been a morning person.  Huh.)  Must plan snacks, food thrown in purse, in the car, meals for the rest of the day...where can I get them?  When I'm at work, it's fine, because I kind of have that down.  And there are juice boxes in the fridge.  Just for me.  And any patients that exhibit symptoms that look very familiar to me. If I'm running errands, I have to think about whether there is somewhere to get a snack nearby or on the way.  How much walking is going to be involved in my errands?   If someone offers me a drink, a  piece of candy, a stick of gum...I must mentally analyze it before I accept it.  Even stupid, non-fun things like cough drops.

If I go to Fred Meyer or Costco, I seriously need a snack with me.  I don't consider walking around there exercise, but apparently it is.  Someday I will learn to check my blood sugar before I start shopping.  Because I never can remember to, and I can't even count how many times I have ended up shaky and sweaty and seriously hoping I can complete my shopping without acting like a fool.  I really do carry glucose tablets, but food tastes WAY better.  I do use this as an excuse for really non-diabetic friendly food.  You know, the stuff that is right there, nice and convenient at the checkout.  Yummmm.  Bad choice, but SO easy.

And one of biggest pet peeves of diabetes and food is when I eat too much, but don't accurately count my carbs and take too much insulin.  So, when I check my blood glucose and it's too low to go to bed and I need a snack, and I'm not even REMOTELY hungry and HAVE TO eat or drink something.  That's just a plain old waste of calories.  I don't even get to enjoy it.   And, on a similar note, when I am trying to lose weight and am counting calories, and have eaten all my calories and am all proud of myself...and then need to have a snack.  And the snack has to be full calorie, of at least full carb...And it puts me over my calorie count for the day.  That TOTALLY shouldn't count against me. 

So, although I know that eating disorders are really serious, and I'm not making light of them, I just think that we should have a subcategory.  For those of us whose lives literally revolve around food.  And the balance of food and exercise and insulin.

Allow me to introduce myself...

Hi there!  My name is Karen and I am going to attempt this blog.  I cannot guarantee how often I will post, or how well written it will be, whether anyone will read it, follow it, comment on it, or really, even benefit at all from reading it.  But, I am going to do it anyway.  So there.


Let me explain my title...

I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at the ripe "old" age of 35.  Just a couple months short of 36.  For those of you who aren't PWD (Person/People with Diabetes) or just generally knowledgeable about it, Type 1 is what used to be called Juvenile Diabetes, and generally kids come down with it.  But, because there are more and more people like me out there, they have changed the name to Type 1, because it is not just "juveniles" that come down with it anymore.  

At one of my initial appointments with my (then new) endocrinologist, I asked how I could have Juvenile Diabetes as an adult.  And he said, "You are just juvenile at heart."  And there you have it.  

At my one year anniversary of diabetes, I decided to switch from multiple injections daily to using an insulin pump.  Really, SO MUCH better.  Don't misunderstand...there are moments where I want to just rip the stupid thing out of my tummy (or wherever it happens to be attached that day) and huck it out a car window.  Then I pray, calm down, and remember to be grateful.  As my wonderfully patient husband reminds me on my "poor pitiful me days"...one hundred years ago, they didn't HAVE insulin, and I would be dead by now.  And the pump IS really much better, subtle, and socially acceptable than injections. (for me, anyway)  I don't have bruises all over my tummy.  Just an extra funky "nipple".  (seriously!)  That moves.  Every three days.  I don't have waitresses walk up to ask how we are liking our food while I have a needle sticking out of my "inch" that I happen to be pinching.  (Never fails...if not when your mouth is full, while you are shooting up)

I am a Christian, I am a wife, a stepmom, a dental hygienist, a sister, daughter, friend.  And, I am a diabetic.   I have a wonderful life.  And, a sarcastic sense of humor (you have been warned!)  Really, who wouldn't want this life???  So, come share it with me...