Tag Archives: Milestones

Another year, another…

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SAR2015
 
 
Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I realized that I had completed another year living with Type 1 Diabetes.

Often, when the day comes around, I think about how great it is that I’ve lived with this chronic condition for so long, without any significant issues. Sometimes I even celebrate a little.

But this year, I was so obsessed with getting ready for this business trip, I completely forgot about the diaversary.

That’s the way it goes sometimes. After 24 years with diabetes, I can’t expect every year to be the same.

What was your last diaversary like?
 
 
 

Where have the past 9 months gone?

Since 2014 is nearly 3/4 over, and the days are getting shorter here in North America, I suddenly found myself considering the things I had wanted to accomplish this year. How have I done? Have I crossed enough off of my list? Am I a better person than I was on January 1?

This year started like a lot of others for me. I’m not a resolution-maker, but whenever I reach a milestone like the beginning of a new year, I try to think of some things I would like to do, or be a part of.

There have been many successes, and a few failures, but overall, it’s been great. Probably the first thing I could say is: I’ve learned a lot this year. I’ve learned how to be a better advocate. I’ve learned how to speak to people about my diabetes, and diabetes in general. I’ve learned a lot about the regulatory process, I’ve learned even more about how artificial pancreas technology works, and I’ve picked up valuable knowledge from the rest of the Diabetes Online Community. Lots of support and encouragement too.

I’ve continued to hand out medals to People With Diabetes who bravely train and achieve athletic goals that sometimes seemed unreachable. Every time I get a new request, I get so excited I want to do cartwheels and handsprings (but I don’t, because that would be a huge athletic fail). I get even more excited when I get to write about it and show off someone’s picture wearing the medal. As much as I get out of it, what I really hope is that someone sees a story and goes off on an athletic quest of their own. That is awesome and inspiring. There are not enough great adjectives to describe the feeling it gives me deep in my heart.

Still, I have my own athletic endeavor on the books. I’m still going to try to get in a short triathlon of some sort before the end of the year. October is a great month for it, but I’m not making any promises yet because frankly, I’m in horrible shape right now. But as people are fond of saying, it’s not always how fast you go… finishing and doing your best is a victory in itself. I really hope I can still get there.

What else have I left undone? I still want to organize a regular in-person diabetes meetup in my area. I think I got too busy to concentrate on it for a while, but I also can’t discount the worry that it will be a big bust and no one will show up. Oh well… screw it. I’m doing it anyway, because maybe people will show up, and if it turns out they won’t, at least I’ll know I tried.

I also can’t deny the feeling that I’m searching for the next thing I can do. Something… I don’t know what. I know that sounds incredibly vague, but I don’t have an idea what that is yet. I just know that when I’ve felt this way in the past, something has always popped up to grab my attention for a while. I just need to leave myself open to whatever is going to show itself over the next few months, because I really feel like something will. I’ll let you know if it finally hits me.

I’ve read about people going through amazing experiences this year, and I’ve read about people working through tough times, taking care of themselves the best they can for a while. Each of those scenarios involves victories, even though on the surface they don’t appear to be equal at all. So what about you? Are you feeling good about 2014 so far?
 
 
 

Another year has come and gone.

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So here we are. Or here I am, staring at another birthday (52) and another blog anniversary. By the way, my great niece, also born at this time two years ago, is doing great and laughs a lot and looooves Elmo.

I really like writing in this space. I don’t see myself giving this up for a while yet, though the thought enters my mind briefly now and then. If I didn’t write about my diabetes, I’d definitely probably find something else to write about anyway. Baseball, perhaps. Of course, my Cincinnati Reds are off to another lousy start (the games do count in April, fellas), with two wins against six losses. My other favorite team, the Baltimore Orioles, have a record of 3-5. Honestly, I’m worried less about the O’s at this point than I am about the Reds, who didn’t improve their roster one iota in the offseason, yet expect better results than last year. Good luck with that, Cincinnati. But I digress…

Two years ago today I published my first post at Happy-Medium.net. Since then, there have been 360 additional offerings. Holey Moley, that’s nearly one every other day! If you asked me if I could write like that two years ago, I’d say yes… I can write about anything. But I wouldn’t have guessed that the subjects here would be so varied.

At the two year mark, there’s one thing that worries me more than anything else. I must get two or three e-mails per week nowadays from individuals or organizations that are looking to spread their message. Whether they’re promoting upcoming events, pitching a product, or have a cause near and dear to their heart, they ask me to say something about it. I almost always say yes to the individuals, and sometimes say yes to the organizations.

But here’s the thing: I worry that telling someone else’s story so much leaves little time for telling my own. I want to remain a strong supporter. I’m good at that. But part of my mission for this blog is to leave a written record of what it’s really like to live in my shoes on an ongoing basis. Selfish? You bet. It’s my blog. There are times when two or more competing interests come together in this space, and that’s wonderful, but there are times when they don’t. When I go back and read three weeks of posts and realize I barely touched on how diabetes affects me personally, I realize I’m losing Stephen in the process. Stephen doesn’t need all of the attention, but he deserves a mention now and then (how’s that for third person?).

Returning to telling my story a little more often is a goal I’ll carry forward.

Looking back at the last twelve months, I can see lots of themes… some recurring, others standing on their own. Among them, just in the past year:

Clinical trial participation

A book review

D-Blog Check-in Day

Here’s to You, Grandpa

Wounded, but tougher

The people we look up to

Athlete with diabetes? You deserve an award (we’ve awarded nine medals since November!)

Diabetes University

Show me how big your brave is, and why I have four glucose meters now

What I learned at a conference on interoperability, and at the Manning Diabetes Symposium

Prescription burnout

Five recipes

This is definitely more varied and more detailed than I thought I could handle when I started this thing. What’s really weird is that I have the feeling I’m capable of handling a lot more. So if I have any detractors, I’m sorry to disappoint you. Actually, I’m not. I’m going to keep writing for a while.

I would be remiss if I didn’t say thank you to… You. Without your feedback, I could still write… but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun, and I certainly wouldn’t have learned as much as I have. I still want to jump out of my seat when I see a comment for the first time, and I thank you for helping to keep my head straight, while at the same time feeding my ego. I hope the next year brings you peace and happiness, and a cure for diabetes. In the meantime, I’ll have a slice of birthday pie (it’s a thing for me) in your honor.

Thank you so much for a great year. Here’s to an interesting, inspirational, and fun year three!
 
 
 

Blogaversaries and other milestones.

Because things always seem to happen at the same time, a few milestones occurred this week. Most on the same day.

My great niece Natalie hit her First Birthday! She is healthy, and happy, and very tall for her age. I couldn’t be happier, and she’s not even mine.

– Of course, Natalie’s birthday is my birthday, so I hit the 51 year mark on Tuesday too. Fifty one doesn’t feel any different from fifty, although I am cursing the diabetes a little more than usual these days. Goes with the territory, I guess.

– And of course, if it’s Natalie’s birthday and my birthday, it must be the anniversary of the beginning of Happy-Medium.net. One year ago Tuesday I started writing in this space.

I also posted for the 200th time here this week… on Monday, I think. Actually, it was probably more than 200 times, when you count all the junk I threw out at the beginning. I know I sound like a broken record (does anyone know what that means anymore?), but I am sooooo grateful that there are people who read this blog and comment on posts here. I love to write, and this is a much-needed outlet for my thoughts and observances. But knowing you are there and reading this warms my heart and make me want to write great stuff every day. I learn from you and hope to continue to learn from you for the foreseeable future.

Thank you so much. I am one lucky sonofagun. I’ll try to make the next year better than the first.
 
 
 

I waited until today to write this post.

I don’t know the reason why, really.

We were all sitting around last night, The Great Spousal Unit and The Live-In Niece and I, discussing it. I remember I said that the same thing happened this year that happens a lot of years around this time. In the beginning of January, I start to think about it, and by the end of January it’s somehow slipped off of my radar. Only this year, I remembered again, a day in advance.

And Maureen, in her psychology-major voice asked, “Why do you think that is?”. I don’t know… I’m forgetful? Absent-minded?

“Yes, you are… but I think it’s more than that.” You mean like I’m avoiding it somehow?

“I don’t know. Maybe. You always seem to dislike dealing with things that are unpleasant.” Yeah, well, who doesn’t?

But she has a point. I don’t like reliving that day in my head. It’s probably not the worst day of my life, but it’s definitely in the top 3. Or top 2. Or maybe there’s 1 and 1a. But when I do relive that day, I get sad, and angry, and then mad at myself for making a big deal of it and letting it affect how I feel in that moment.

So how do I deal with it this year, in a semi-public forum? Do I celebrate, like I try to do for my birthday? Do I curse the course of events and go around with a scowl on my face all day? I think either, or both, would be appropriate.

Instead, I decided to sit down and pen a letter.
 
 
January 30, 2013
 
 
Dr. M____,

Twenty-two years ago today, you correctly diagnosed me with Type 1 diabetes. From that moment forward, my life has changed in ways I couldn’t have imagined then.

First of all, let me say thank you for taking the time to investigate what was obviously wrong with me during the two months leading up to that point. There were two other doctors who couldn’t be bothered to do a blood test or take a urine sample. If you couldn’t be bothered either, well… I don’t know how I would have ended up.

Second, thanks for staying on me those first few years. I think you could have been a little more forgiving about my dietary choices and my lack of BG logging diligence, but you did instill in me a feeling that this is my diabetes, and I live with it every day. I own it.

Finally, I want you to know that I’m doing well these days. My wife and I have had a good life in Baltimore for almost 19 years. Today, instead of twice-daily injections like when I was diagnosed, I’m hooked up to a Medtronic Revel™ insulin pump. My last A1c came in at 6.2. I’ve completed two triathlons, and hopefully a third this year. And I’m writing a blog about my diabetes, talking about my daily experiences, investigating diabetes-related issues from time to time, and advocating for others like me.

Every journey starts somewhere. My journey with this disease began in your office back in January, 1991. I can remember it like it was yesterday. But that’s only the beginning of the first chapter. Subsequent chapters have had their ups and downs, but there’s still a lot more of this story to tell. I think it will be a long time before the final chapter is written. I hope you’re well, and I hope you understand how lucky I was to have connected with you so many years ago.

All the best,
Stephen