A family living well with type 1 diabetes.

Posts tagged ‘Type 1 Diabetes parenting’

Diabetes Art Day

Art is a journey, much like life is. It is this journey that is important; the growth and learning that results from the experience of creating, or doing. We put far too much emphasis on the end product in art. We critique and judge. We decide if we like or don’t like art. We forget to honour the journey and the message.

There aren’t many better ways to open up a therapeutic dialogue with my kids than over a blank piece of paper with an assembly of assorted sketch pencils, paints, paint brushes and glue before us and the energy of creative potential that is so palpable. We sit together and discuss our approach to a certain topic. I reassure my girls, who are still learning to not be inhibited by what the world might think, that whatever they create–it is theirs, and it is good.

Yesterday when we sat down at our dining room table with our artistic accoutrements before us, we talked about our own personal feelings about diabetes and how we might translate that on paper using colour, images and even words. My oldest daughter, Jazmine, is a very literate 9 year old. She has ambitions of becoming a writer. Not surprisingly, she chose to employ words to express herself:

Image“The Rain of Diabetes” by Jazmine Roberts

My youngest daughter, Jenna, who has lived with diabetes since she was two years old, felt it important to convey how life with diabetes isn’t all bad. She spoke to me about how she feels it should be celebrated because of how strong it makes a person. She mentioned that people should have Diabetes Parties. I found this quite interesting and I told her how I loved the idea of a Diabetes Party. She proceeded to draw this:

Image“The Blue Surprise” by Jenna Roberts

I had been trying to plan and visualize what I would create for several days before sitting down to actually create. It was becoming a source of stress for me. This should have been a red flag to me that I was over-thinking it. But it didn’t occur to me until I saw a message from Lee Ann on her “Diabetes Art Day” Facebook page that might as well have been addressed to me, specifically. It basically said to not plan it and over-think it, but just sit down and DO it. I am paraphrasing, but that is the much needed message I took from it. So, that is how I approached things. I knew I wanted to incorporate several mediums. I have enjoyed working with collage and watercolour pencils lately. Of course, one of my favourite mediums is pencil, so I was sure to employ that. What I created was something that, to me, speaks of the dark, isolation one may feel while experiencing a low blood sugar. I can’t claim to know what that feels like; however, I have witnessed many low blood sugars and have talked endlessly with Jenna about how she feels. When I showed Jenna where I was going with this, her face lit up as she examined my partially finished piece. She looked at me as though she felt validated. “Yes, Mom! That is how I feel!” She then added her own spin on it when she said, “…and it’s like the tree has diabetes too!” I don’t know why I made the tree like something out of L.O.T.R.–it just seemed to happen. I didn’t want the tree to be menacing–more empathetic. That is just what Jenna picked up on:

Image“Low” by Sherry Roberts

Just as an aside, this morning Jenna requested a party on her diaversary, June 9th. This year marks 5 years with diabetes. I think a party is an absolute must.

Please visit the Diabetes Art Day site to see countless more amazing creations from the global Diabetes online Community. We are a creative bunch, indeed.

Super Powers? Don’t All Moms Have em?

The prompt: If you had a superpower — what would it be? How would you use it?

When I was a kid, my Mom could make it all better. Somehow, her hugs and kisses just did. Even if she really didn’t actually make it better — for me, just her TLC was enough to make me feel better. It is the magic Moms possess.

Kids want Mom when they don’t feel well.

Jenna doesn’t feel well when she has a high or low blood sugar. This means she doesn’t feel well on a daily basis. She musters through, sometimes without missing a beat and no one is the wiser. But other times, the glycemic ride from hell can knock her flat on her little scar tissued posterior. She wants hugs and lots of em. She wants snuggles with Mom on the couch. She wants a gentle voice telling her she is going to be okay. She needs to feel safe and comforted. And during those times there is no place on earth I would rather be than with my little girl snuggled in my arms.

Superpowers? I’m a Mom. I’m good to go.

Jenna had a low tonight at bedtime. I employed my ‘superpowers’ to help alleviate the symptoms. Also, three carb tabs.

Health Time Capsule

For the month of April I am participating in the WEGO Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge. This means I shall attempt 30 straight days of blog posts–one for every day in the month of April. I’m not going to lie to you, I have my doubts that I can pull this off. In fact, I’m already off to a less than stellar start, given that I’m a day late with my first post.

But that doesn’t matter. I will give it my best shot and aim to make a quality contribution to this event rather than push for quantity that may be lacking in interest and passion. I enjoy the challenge of writing from prompts but if I’m not feeling it, I’m not going to post something that I’m not proud of or pleased with. So on that note, here’s the first prompt and my humble submission follows:

The prompt: Pretend you’re making a time capsule of you & your health focus that won’t be opened until 2112. What’s in it? What would people think of it when they found it?

Hello people of the future. I am the mother of a child with type 1 diabetes. I’m sure you have heard tell of this disease of the past–a heartbreaking, life-long sentence of finger pokes, injections, blood draws, doctor’s appointments, high and low blood sugars and the ever-present fear of devastating complications. It most often struck our young children, suddenly and without warning. But no one was safe, really. You are very fortunate to live in a time when this disease is merely a part of human history.

Type 1 diabetes was physically, emotionally and mentally exhausting for the people who lived with it every day. The demands of diabetes were at times immense. Imagine having to check your blood sugar by poking your finger and summoning a drop of blood anywhere from 8 to 12 times a day or more. Imagine having to count every carbohydrate you consume and calculate the dose of insulin needed to inject to ensure your blood sugar doesn’t shoot to the moon. Imagine having to have access to a considerable arsenal of medical paraphernalia at all times to stay healthy and alive. And imagine that no matter how diligent you work, no matter how hard you try you often don’t get it right. High and low blood sugars were a given–a part of everyday life. That’s just the nature of this beast.

I have included in this time capsule a copy of the blog I started and kept for years after my daughter’s diagnosis so that you might know more of what this disease was capable of and how it affected entire families. I have also included all of the items type 1 diabetics required to be at their disposal 24 hours a day, every day to live. They include:

  • blood glucose meter
  • blood glucose test strips
  • lancets
  • lancing device
  • carb tabs
  • blood ketone meter
  • blood ketone test strips
  • urine ketone test strips
  • insulin
  • insulin syringes
  • insulin pump
  • insulin cartridges
  • infusion sets
  • batteries
  • sharps container
  • continuous glucose monitor

We lived in an age that saw technology propel forward at a dizzying speed! It was incredibly hard to keep up with the latest technological gadgetry pertaining to communication and entertainment. One could go broke trying. Yet the diabetes devices and pharmaceuticals of our time were shamefully behind the times.

For the last 30 years of the 1900’s a cure was repeatedly promised to be “just steps away” or “no more than 5 years down the pike.” Finally, doctors stopped making these promises with such reckless abandon. People got wise … and maybe a little cynical too. The focus started to shift more toward treatment and prevention–not solely on a cure.

To be personally affected by type 1 diabetes is to experience a full range of emotions to their most extreme degree. It isn’t easy to cope at times. It is difficult to trust that those in the business of finding better treatments and cures are really committed to looking for that which will ultimately put them out of business.

But at the end of the day, it’s all that the people living with diabetes and those who love them have.

We must believe.

I must believe.

This is why I have written this with optimism and hope. You must know what a world without type 1 diabetes looks and feels like. In 100 years, surely the break-neck speed at which wireless communication advanced in our day finally found its way to the treatment and curing of chronic and deadly diseases such as diabetes.

…all the walks, marathons, fund raisers, the billions of dollars raised…

We as a species must have gotten our priorities in order by now … haven’t we?

I try.

I sit quietly with my cell phone to my ear, listening while Jenna takes instruction from her support worker on what numbers to program into her pump to give herself her morning snack bolus at school.

“Okay. You are going to eat 36 carbs, so make that number a 36. Three – six.”

“Okay. Three – six?”

“Yep.”

A few seconds pass while Jenna presses the up button on her pump. When the pump flies past her goal (the numbers tend to get away from you if you just hold the button down which can be frustrating) she presses the down button to make the number what it needs to be.

“Oops — You went past.”

“I know…”

“THERE! That’s it. Okay, now you press OK. Good. Now you are going to enter your BG. What was your BG, Jenna?”

“14.6.”

“Right. Good job. Okay. So you make that 4.4 a 14.6.”

“Okay. 14.6.”

“That’s right.” More time passes and I listen to the din of children in the background chatting and laughing while they eat their snacks as Jenna toggles up to enter her rather high pre-snack blood sugar reading into her pump. The seconds start to feel like minutes. I know Jenna also hears the other kids — her friends. I know she wants to join them.

“Oops. You went way past, Jenna. Okay. Focus, my friend.”

“Ooops!!”

I hear a sigh of frustration from my little girl. I feel my jaw muscles tighten and I take a sympathetic deep breath for her. I talk to her in my mind. I don’t want to add to the frustration by chiming in. Just stay calm, Jenna. Focus.

Then Jenna’s support worker gives further encouragement,”C’mon, Jenna. Look at your pump. You’re almost there. 14.6.” I imagine Jenna is looking back at her classmates who don’t have to jump through such tedious hoops before they eat their snacks.

Then, in frustration, Jenna blurts out, “Why don’t you just do it?”

Her good-natured support worker retorts, “Ha! Because it’s your job, missy!”

And there it is.

It’s Jenna’s job to give herself her insulin, a life-saving (and potentially lethal if overdosed) drug. She’s five years old and she must do this. She doesn’t know that her support worker isn’t allowed to even touch her pump, let alone give her insulin.

Jenna often doesn’t want to be bothered with bolusing herself for every carbohydrate containing snack or meal she eats. She has worn an insulin pump since she was two years old — far too young to administer her own insulin dose. Oh sure, she would, on occasion press the OK button to initiate the actual bolus after I or her Dad had done the programming. But Jenna has been spared the monotony of bolusing for most of her diabetic life. She has been doing her own snack boluses at school for several weeks now and overall, she has rocked it. And I know that the more she does it, the easier it will be and the faster she will get at it.

Even still, no matter how fast she gets at it, it’s not what most people have to do before taking in nourishment. And it’s always prefaced by the ubiquitous blood sugar check. There are just so many damn HOOPS! Is it any wonder I worry about what the future holds?

I remember in my nursing training, when we were covering diabetes, we were taught that during the teen years it is common for teens to rebel when it comes to the necessary minutia they must constantly carry out to stay healthy. It is so common, in fact, that the training we received in caring for teens with diabetes focused heavily on our verbal interactions with them and the psycho-social implications of this disease on this particular age group. And then, as if to punctuate this theory for me, during my corresponding practicum for this unit, I was assigned to a teen with diabetes who had been admitted with diabetic ketoacidosis and was undergoing further patient teaching as part of his recovery.

It was a long time ago, and I don’t remember much detail, but I do recall getting a sense that this teen was struggling. The struggle was just as much emotional as it was physical. He seemed sad. Perhaps even depressed. I felt so inadequate. I felt like I knew nothing of what this young person was going through. I felt ineffective and in over my head. I was only in my early twenties at the time and this diabetes deal that I was just learning about seemed like such a heavy burden for any person! For a teen? It must feel like the biggest bullshit, shitty hand anyone could ever be dealt. How on earth could I be of any help to this person? I was young, in training, and knew nothing of the ever-present, constant, worrisome, unpredictable, obtrusiveness that is diabetes.

I was a good student and I imagine I did my best with this patient and tried hard to NOT sound like I was reading from a script in my verbal exchanges with him. Honestly, I think I was relieved when my assignment changed. But the sadness that was so tangible stuck with me. I knew this young man was dealing with demons I knew nothing about.

And now here I am, the mother of a child with diabetes. I don’t need to tell you I have my fears. I work hard at keeping them in check. I try to look at my past professional experiences with diabetes not so much as warnings of what lies ahead but as wisdom, if put into proper perspective. I keep reminding myself that just because it is common enough to be taught in nursing theory classes and just because I happened to be assigned to a teenager recovering from diabetic ketoacidosis due to lack of self-care from typical teenage rebellion, doesn’t mean my daughter will do the same thing.

But I know how hard this disease can be. I know how exhausting and maddening it is. I know how much it can mess with your head. I also know how much being a teenager messes with your head. I’ve seen these two forces collide. I’ve seen what can happen. Teenage years + diabetes = the perfect storm for noncompliance (a term I now loath but is all too common in the medical world) and disaster.

I try to not worry so much about the future. I read about other people’s experiences and try to glean from them what is useful without causing myself too much unnecessary, premature aging worry. I try to stay positive. I try to have faith in myself and my amazing, strong, smart little girl. I try.

… but it’s hard sometimes.

Sickies in a Blanket.

Mommy and Jenna,

Both sick with a flu,

Snuggled together ‘neath a blanket

Or two.

Fevers and coughs and aches

We both share,

But Jenna has ketones;

They’re trace–but still there.

 We’re sipping fluids-

We’re resting and snoozing.

The cartoons on the TV

Are not of my choosing.

For this mommy to worry

Is really not new,

But to fret in this febrile state…

…ah…AH…ACHOOOO!!

I can handle a lot,

Countless times I have shown,

But a little back-up today

Would beat D-parenting alone.

That’s all I got. *sniffle*

Verio Cool.

I have had the pleasure of trying out a new meter from OneTouch® — The Verio™IQ. And what a sweet little meter it is.

Upon first glance, it looks a lot like an iPod! Very sleek. Very user friendly, as any meter should be. The display is big, bold and beautiful. Jenna was impressed, as was I. Jenna enjoyed tagging whether her reading was before or after eating. This is the feature that helps the meter determine if there are any trends worth noting; another cool aspect of this sassy little meter! The only puzzler was what to do if the reading is neither. Perhaps a third option to opt out of tagging a reading would be beneficial.

Update: Evidently, there is a way to opt out of tagging a reading. You simply press the go back arrow to return to the results screen or hold down the arrow to go to the main menu. Helps to read the instructions thoroughly. :)

The next feature we liked was how little blood is required to conduct the test and the fact that you can slurp up your tiny sample from either the right or the left of the strip! This proved helpful in preventing test strip waste which is something that makes me crazy. At nearly a buck a pop, the last thing we want is an error indicating an insufficient blood sample. Sometimes this happens when Jenna is doing her own checks. Perhaps she is rushing, being the busy little bee that she is. But Jenna had no problem obtaining an adequate sample with the Verio IQ™.

This meter touts SmartScan™ Technology. It scans each sample 500 times to ensure precise results. I have no idea how it does this in just 3 short seconds but WOW! This is HUGE. We rely on meter accuracy to ensure Jenna is getting the right amount of insulin, and we all know how important proper insulin dosing is.

Besides its accuracy, the feature that really got me revved was the light. This baby has a built in light to help see in the dark during nighttime testing. I didn’t have to hold a flashlight between my teeth! And I could hang up my miner’s hat too ;)

One final note, this meter doesn’t use batteries. It charges via a plug, just like a mobile phone or MP3 player! Very cool.

Over all, I like this meter, Jenna likes this meter and I think its future is as bright as its colour, LCD display.

Disclosure: The OneTouch® Verio™IQ meter was supplied to me at no charge for evaluation purposes by LifeScan Canada Ltd. I was not paid for my opinion. The opinions expressed here are my own (and to some extent, Jenna’s). I was not required by LifeScan Canada Ltd. to mention this product on my blog but it is because I am an active diabetes blogger that I was contacted and given the opportunity to try this product gratis.

Crafty D-Crafting.

So I’ve been busy helping my girls create homemade Valentines to hand out in class next week. I blame Pinterest for this sudden blast of creative ambition. If you haven’t yet familiarized yourself with Pinterest, be forewarned, it is habit forming. As if any of us need yet another online time-suck! But the cool thing about it is you can get some really neat ideas for crafts and art projects (and a plethora of other topics).

One such project that just dazzled and amazed me was this one:

You take a picture of your child holding out his or her hand as if clutching a lolly-pop, then use some sort of photo editing software to add text and embellishments, print it off, cut slits above and below the fist and feed a lolly through! Is that not the coolest thing?!

So after I had my Valentine fun with this idea, I got to thinking — how could I make use of this idea in a D-awareness sort of way? It didn’t take long for me to come up with this:

 

I think these would be cool to make bunches of and hand out at school events during Diabetes Awareness Month in November or any time there is an opportunity to raise a little awareness. What a great way to educate people about how people with diabetes can have treats too and are not relegated to a sugar-free existence. In fact, this myth is a dangerous one that really needs to be dispelled. We know too well how important and, indeed, life-saving sugar can be to a person with type 1 diabetes.

This project is more simple than it appears. Go ahead and give it a try, whether it’s to create Valentines or awareness!

 

Revisiting Our Early Days With D

This morning as I scrolled through my Facebook feed I read a post by a fellow D-Mom, Meri Shuhmacher, who blogs over at  Our Diabetic Life. Her post explained how she has noticed that her son has only been doing blood sugar checks on two fingers — his pinky and the finger next to it —  instead of using all his fingers (Jenna insists on this as well, only it’s her two pointer fingers that get picked on mostly).

In this post Meri goes on to tell how she asked him why he is doing this. He explains that he is “creating a shield”. (This made my D-Momma heart ache a little, I confess.) Her post was accompanied by a picture of a close-up of her son’s hand with calloused little digits that looked all too familiar. It brought me back to that first year after Jenna’s diagnosis and a post I wrote on September 15, 2008, just three months after Jenna’s diagnosis, discussing this unavoidable finger fate of all people with type 1 diabetes. It also brought back the heartache that I endured around the clock during that first year. We’ve come so far…

Here is a reposting of that blog post I wrote, because sometimes it’s good to look back and see how far one has come.

*     *     *     *

A Diabetic Rite of Passage

It was inevitable. We were warned about this by our diabetes nurse in hospital when Jenna was just diagnosed. I wasn’t the least bit phased by it at the time, but now that it has happened, my heart hurts for my little girl.

The tips of Jenna’s two index fingers have developed little callouses from the constant pokes with the lancet to test her blood sugar. My two and a half year old, beautiful little girl now sports the trademark of a seasoned diabetic.

I know it isn’t that big a deal, and I am without a doubt thankful for my blessings. It could be so much worse. But still I feel that familiar feeling of sadness that I felt so acutely upon her initial diagnosis every time I push that spring loaded trigger button and squeeze out her precious blood, drop by ever-loving drop.

When Jenna was first diagnosed, I remember friends and family saying that if she had to get diabetes, better now while she is so young. I remember at the time feeling both grateful for this small mercy and profoundly saddened by it at the same time. On the one hand, yes it is true that Jenna will be spared having to change habits that had been years in the making and will never mourn the loss of her far less complicated,pre-diagnosis days. But on the other hand, how tragic that she will never know what it’s like to occasionally eat with reckless abandon, or to run out the door to play with only the clothes on her back and not have to worry about packing glucose tabs or her glucometer with her, not to mention her ever-present insulin pump strapped to her little waist.

The thought that really gave me pause was the one that popped into my head within the first 24 hours of her diagnosis; My daughter can’t survive without the help of modern medicine. Jenna is sentenced to a lifetime of being a heavy consumer of pharmaceuticals for her very survival. She will never know any different.

Jenna is becoming more curious about her diabetes. She is asking questions and making statements, looking for confirmation and reinforcement, saying things like, “I have diabetes, right? I need my pump, don’t I?” I know she is attempting to understand and deal with it all. I also know that this is just the tip of the ice burg. Over the years there will be many more of Jenna’s questions to answer and emotions to feel and they aren’t all going to be as positive and accepting as they seem to be now.

I guess in the grand scheme of things a couple of little callouses isn’t the end of the world. But to me they represent all the pain, and trials Jenna has had to overcome and everything she has yet to endure throughout her life with diabetes. And because of that my heart breaks a little everytime I look upon those precious little two year old fingers.

…but the testament they are to her strenth and courage is what makes me fill to bursting with pride.

Enabling Independence.

Jenna is almost half way through her first year of school. She loves school! Kindergarten has been fun, exciting and full of growth and learning, not just for Jenna but for me as well. I’ve come quite a way from the worried and nervous mom I was at the start of the school year.

We have a routine now and it seems to be working quite nicely. We have found ways of doing things to ensure that Jenna has virtually the same opportunities as any child does while attending kindergarten and still remains safe. I can, in part, credit her student support worker (SSW), her teacher and the school for this success.

Oh sure, we’ve had a couple of hiccups along the way. We are, after all, blazing a bit of a trail here. There aren’t many children with diabetes as young as Jenna and on an insulin pump in the school system here. And every family has their different ways of managing their child’s diabetes. But with good communication and the setting aside of some egos, we (myself and the staff) have managed to maintain respect for one another’s perspectives while achieving our common goal of ensuring Jenna is safe and happy while at school.

At the start of the school year we set a goal for Jenna to start doing some of her own bolusing by Christmas while she is at school with the supervision of her SSW and with my telephone guidance. Presently, I go to the school twice a day, for morning snack and lunch to administer her insulin doses as no staff members at the school are permitted to do so. However, Christmas time is never a good time to initiate a new plan. So we all agreed to hold off until the new year when the dust of the holidays has settled and we are back into the groove at school.

So here we are, well over three weeks into the new year and back into our routine. Jenna is no stranger to bolusing herself with either my or her dad’s supervision. We have handed her her pump and walked her through the process on many occasions. But her motivation is lacking because, well, she’s a kid and she doesn’t want to have to take the time to engage in such tedious matters as inputting carb info and blood sugar results into a mini computer to receive an insulin dose recommendation then input that number and press GO prior to eating a yummy snack — not when Mommy can do it in a third of the time while Jenna can dig in and enjoy social time with her friends.

What kid would want to do that?

But, of course, she has to do that. This is the next small step in Jenna’s slow journey toward independence. So we’ve developed a little incentive program for her at school with the help of her teacher. Jenna is expected to give herself her snack bolus three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, with supervision from her SSW and my counsel via mobile phone. She will receive a check mark on a special chart that her teacher has devised and at the end of the week, provided she has met her three-check goal, she gets special play time privileges and she gets to chose a friend to join her for this reward.

Sounds great, right? Well, we shall see. This plan is to be implemented today. In fact, I am going to park outside the school in about a half an hour to do our first phone bolus and still be close enough in case any unforeseen issues should arise. I slid the little, bare-bones cell phone we purchased last week into Jenna’s lunch kit this morning, ready for that first call. I will keep you posted.

The other little dilemma was, how do I provide a mobile phone for Jenna to use at the school to communicate with me for bolusing without it seeming to my 8 year old daughter –who is already asking, and has been for some time now, when she will get her own cell phone– like I am giving my 5 year old her own cell phone? I have had to be careful of language; I don’t refer to the cell phone as “Jenna’s cell phone”. That would give the wrong message to both girls. I explain that it is Mommy and Daddy’s cell phone. Of course, it was a bit of a hard sell for Jaz. But she does understand. Incidentally, Jaz has been bolusing Jenna lately on some occasions as well, and she is a pro at it. Yes, things are progressing nicely. My little girls are growing up.

It’s bittersweet, really.

Update: SHE DID IT! She just gave herself her first bolus without J or I present! I heard her little voice over the phone and I distinctly heard pride as she input the info and pressed GO, giving herself her insulin dose without me there. And I find myself oddly emotional about this rather huge step toward her independence. It reminds me of the first time either of my girls tried solid food after being strictly breastfed. Ah, but it’s all good. She’s taking the reigns. Slowly but surely, she is taking charge. :)

Organized Chaos Isn’t Working For Us.

That feeling when you go to grab a fresh container of test strips and realize you are down to your last one? Yeah. That feeling. It’s not pleasant, that feeling. There’s great comfort in having a freshly stocked cabinet (or drawer) full of diabetes supplies. It gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, doesn’t it? And just as wonderful as those warm n’ fuzzies are – the feeling of realizing supplies have dwindled dangerously low is equally as dreadful.

I’m looking out at a bitterly cold, winter day with winds whipping up snow-devils into a twisting, flurry of white, frosty madness. It’s the kind of day where one is thankful for shelter and central heating. But for those of us dependent on external stuff to keep ourselves or our children alive, days like these cause our minds to ponder how well stocked we are with the things we require to sustain life. If things get dicey for an extended period of time, weather-wise, are there enough test strips, insulin and batteries to last? Organization is crucial to the management of diabetes supplies, right?

Which is why I am a shining example of organized D-parenting.

BAAAAhahahahaaaaa!!! I kid.

We keep all of Jenna’s supplies in (and around) a Rubbermaid drawer, arranged (not so) neatly on a shelf in our closet (amid the ties and shoes and baskets of skivvies), so that we can see at a glance (and a quick, profanity-laced rummage) if we are prepared for the unexpected.

Oh, alright. So our system could use an overhaul. Which brings me to this: How do you keep supplies organized, neat and tidy?

Since we have just moved and are still settling in, I’m looking for tips and tricks from all of you ultra-organized types. Tell me what you do. Let me learn from your wisdom. Inspire me. Please comment and if you write a D-blog, or even an organization blog, post links to blog posts you have done on this subject. Pictures would be nice too! Please help me get my diabetes sh–t together. Literally. I look forward to hearing from you. :)

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