A Carnival ... Filled with the most amazing rides the tilt-a-whirl that spins round and round, faster and faster
Just when you get used to the spinning flying swirling motion the ride s l o w s d o w n to a STOP.
and the arms of the ride start flailing again
faster, faster, round and round
until everything around is just a dizzy tizzy blur
Life when one has "d" and has those days, living
in a tilt-a-whirl
a dizzy tizzy blur between high and low.
The tilt-a-whirl starts slowing down
the arms flailing slower a n d
s l o w e r. STOP!
Walking off the the tilt-a-whirl,
fuzzy unstable ground
Is it just the tilt-a-whirl
or am I high right now,
or perhaps I'm low?
Pulling out my meter on the carnival walkway
find a safe place to test
clean my hands
prick my finger, blood on the strip, and wait
5 seconds seems like an eternity
have my results,
No, I'm just fine, 128!
So I can keep going
off to the next
ride in the Diabetes inspired
where the roller-coasters
were built based on the CGMS graphs
of so many people with diabetes
which makes for some amazing hills
and very steep drops down
Just trying to integrate the regular day to day diabetes life
with an amazing exciting dream
where the roller-coasters follow CGMS,
the tilt-a-whirls follow the angles of some of the graphs as well.
A Diabetes friendly carnival, from the rides to the food, to the people filling the carnival.
A girl can always dream, right?
Yeah, I'm Talking To You I am not a number
Nor a statistic
I won't be labeled
This disease is not me
My sickness will not call the shots
I will reach my dreams, whatever they may be
I will eat healthy, because I say so
You, Diabetes, you will not be in charge
I will have beautiful, healthy children
I will watch them grow
One day, I will play with my grandchildren
Reading is one of my passions
So I plan to keep my eyesight, thank you so very much
I like to run, jump, dance
Just so you know, Diabetes
So I plan to keep my legs and feet too
This heart I have, won't be corrupted by you either
You already took my pancreas
You should be happy with that
But if that's not enough...
You get my blood multiple times a day
I've jabbed myself with more needles than I can count
And have an endless amount more to come
Someday I'm afraid I'll start to leak
Seen more doctors, nurses, diabetic educators, dietitians and labs
I couldn't possibly remember them all
That's all you'll get from me, only what I have to give
The rest, well, the rest I plan to keep
Diabetes, you are not me
I can't get rid of you, but you won't be my master either
I will be happy
I will survive
While patiently waiting
Until the day comes
Hopefully one not too far away
A cure for your wretchedness will be found
On that day, oh Diabetes, to you I will say "Bye-Bye" and be on my way
You live in the countless bottles of countless pills with counted minutes and counted doses.
You live in my fingertips pricked and bruised pulsing with numbers, predicting the hours to come.
You live on the pages of my journal, the ink a map scratched out by purpose, making legend my trials.
You live in my life as predator’s eyes, eyes devouring, my hands denying that wished for taste.
You live in each lost footfall, the struggle recognized my step numb, my pain felt, my resolve unbroken
You live, ingrained in my day. imbedded, inherent, intense.
You live on my path, on the road I travel I chose to follow the signs and I chose life
You live in my every choice. You live in my every dream.
You live in my every thought.
You are like the first cup of coffee in the morning – my life doesn’t continue without
You are like the pattern on a zebra’s back
– expected but unpredictable
You are like a tattoo
– not my skin, but undeniably there
You are like a rose
– the beauty of life that is a lie if we don’t see the thorns
You are the uncommon portrait
– it is different but it hangs on my wall every day
Part of Me
Its a part of me.
It trys to control me,
But i dont let it.
I fight back!
If it makes me high,
I get up and dance.
If it makes me low,
I lay and think about
How much my sister must love me.
To run to and fro to get me carbs.
And when my blood sugar is just right,
I know i will be to.
If a three year old can do it,
So Can I!
Thirty four years, Thirty four long years Living with diabetes
Diabetes Brought challenges
A thirst for life
To be responsible
Words and the art of managing mix
Expressions of inner beauty spring from struggles
Formed and positively transformed
Creatively and uniquely diabetes
A proud & grateful life
This poem is dedicated to Anne Newton from Medtronic and Kelley Crumpler from Brazos Valley Endocrinology.
Old Dogs and New Tricks by Mary Jo Powell
Know that old saying 'bout "new tricks" and "old dogs"? I'm now out to prove that it should give one pause.
After 50-plus years of syringes and vials,
With good days and bad nights and plenty of trials,
I've entered a new world of sensors and pumps
And am finding it's giving me plenty of lumps.
It's like learning to do this all over again
And struggling to make all this "stuff" a new friend.
I;m now dealing with decimals instead of just ones,
Finding what I don't know is measured in tons.
But learning new things is a challenge in life
And one that can cause you a great deal of strife.
But thank God for nice people who're willing to help,
Like Anne from Medtronic and Kelley herself.
And there's doctors and bloggers and other friends too
All anxious to help me learn just what to do.
So I head on, determined, in this new exploit,
Hoping that soon I'll become more adroit.
For I know that others have done this same thing
And that soon I will grasp that elusive brass ring
Then control my condition, not let it rule me,
And then show what I've learned so that others can see.
All to prove that "new tricks" can be learned by "old dogs,"
And facing new challenges need not give one pause.
A Letter to the Pain in My Side by Elizabeth Strait
Hello again, To my familiar little prick,
My inconvenient lifeline;
At least you’re tiny, sharp, and quick.
Though the pain just lasts a second,
You stick to me somehow;
A tiny little burden
I’ll have to cope with now.
You pop up under T-shirts,
Protruding from my side;
A tiny little bump
I try my best to hide.
But you’re just the cuff
To my ball and chain.
Now to that Ball;
Hiding YOU is a pain!
You’re heavy, big, and fat,
You’ve hooked yourself on me,
A necessary bother
But I sometimes want set free.
Where am I supposed to put you
Say, if I’m in a dress?
Though I can solve that problem,
It’s not something that I’ll confess.
And when I’ve got you hidden
Is just when I need you out;
Now that’s a public scene
I’d rather do without...
You two are bothersome enough,
But before I say adieu,
I’ll give credit to the chain
As you cause trouble too.
Getting caught, getting tangled;
You’re just as bad as they!
Too bad I need the insulin
That you pump my way...
I am only Eight…. Thru the eyes of a child By: Juan Carlos Vazquez 786 my life changed….. 786 I thought I was going to die….. I am only eight… I want to play I want to build things I want to be a regular boy I am only eight… Get up in the morning...check my sugar..What are my readings ... Did I log my readings? Every time I put food in my mouth, did I check my sugar? Every day I check my sugar If it is high…check for ketones…then drink lots of water I feel like a fish. I am only eight I want candy I want chocolate milk If I sneak it I will get sick I am only eight Life’s not fair Why, I ask, why me? Mom teaches me how to check my sugar, give myself injections, and change my pump. I am only eight. Who cares? Will there be cure? Should I worry? I am only eight. I care I will find a cure. Now I am twelve I check my sugar I eat right and exercise I play I have friends who like me for who I am.
Our angel came to us in August '05 This bundle, this treasure, this beautiful granddaughter
For 27 months feisty and feistier
So "normal" a blessing...then
Dx day...what the heck is that?
Oh! The beginning of the "new normal"
Well, this is no fun. New normal is worse than ...I don't know, anything.
Over four years at times
Her wings sag low
Immediate action or they'll not rise
Over four years at times
Her wings spike too high
Immediate action or she'll never fly
Over four years at times
Finally!! No action...wow, this is so normal
Then, one day later too high, too low, too perfect
The "New Normal" slithers back and
There go the wings of our little angel.
Elusive, but not so much....
we'll soon be perfect again....
It entered my body without my knowledge making me naturally sweet
Coursing through my veins intensive thirst and pangs of constant urination upsetting my normal balance
Now I journey through this challenge
Redefinding my life style and what life means to me
Pricking fingers, counting sugar and carbs
exercising and eating right
It's the ever constant remedy to over coming this metabolic fight
My life's forever changed but I stand bold and strong
Educating and awareness to my fellowman in this I can't go wrong
A brand new task my body has claimed
Type2 diabetes is what I have it doesn't replace my name
A vibrant and faithful woman
accepting this ailment of fate
Counting my daily blessings
To my father forever I give thanks.
US Hispanics are often portrayed in the press as a single, monolithic group. But anyone who has spent any time in San Francisco’s Mission District or the Bronx can tell you, we’re not all the same. Now we’re finding out Read on! →
Traducido por Mila Ferrer. A menudo los Hispanos en Estados Unidos son retratados en la prensa como un solo grupo, monolítico. Pero cualquiera que haya pasado algún tiempo en el Mission District de San Francisco o el Bronx se Read on! →