Goodbye, Hello

Another year, gone. Twelve months of striving and heartache to put behind us, forever. If a psychic had told me the events that would unfold in my life this past year, I might not have believed it. Which also tells me that anything is possible.

So this upcoming year, I'm planning for change. My Diabetes will not be an obstacle, because it's part of me. It was structured into my genetic code, with a specific timeframe. It was supposed to happen.

And it makes me wonder...what else is supposed to happen in 2013? Can I be part of that process by planning accordingly?

If I am sensible about it, I will be sure to monitor myself daily. I'll pay attention to what I eat and how it affects my readings. And I will learn more about my condition. I will not be afraid to read other blogs, to take advantage of free information that could potentially help me live a better life.

I won't take it personally if my wife or my son consumes sugar in my presence. They're only human. And it's not their intention to upset me in any way. I must overlook it. That's the right thing to do.

This year will no doubt be different from all the years before it. New challenges will confront me. New choices. Each with the potential to alter my perspective. To turn my routine upside down.

I'm hoping some of that change will come about through my own efforts. By pursuing my God-given talents -- like never before.

It's time to stop telling myself "NO". I've done this a lot over the years. "That's not possible," or "I don't have time," or "It would be too hard."

Nothing that's worthwhile ever comes about without great effort. The hard thing to do and the right thing to do -- are usually the same.

So I plan to work very hard. To sacrifice whenever possible. To apply myself to a time table. Because I have dreams and I want to make them happen. Before this time rolls around, next year.

Sometimes, we need to change. It's a feeling in the gut, telling us to make a move. I've faced this sort of thing before. I followed my instincts -- and things turned out for the better.

You ever feel that way? Like something big is about to happen, something good, something you've anticipated maybe your whole life, but didn't know exactly when? Something you can't put your finger on, because its exact shape is unknown. But you can sense it, on the horizon.

Something like that is about to happen for me. It may be three months or six months or nine. But it's coming, without a doubt.

And I firmly believe, the first step is saying "Goodbye". Goodbye to disappointments this past year. Goodbye to negative thoughts. Goodbye to all the obstacles that I've created with personal road blocks. Goodbye to all objections (real or imagined) which have prevented me from trying.

Then it's time to say "Hello". Hello to what's possible. Hello to taking steps I've only dreamed about. Not crazy, but real. Commiting myself to a process. Pursuing the dream with consistent effort. Like anyone else who wants to get from point A to point B.

I used to think my path was set, like a track in the road. That I'd already been to college, made my choice, and that was it. No more choices to be made. No way to go back and do it over. No way to try again because my 'chances' were all used up.

Now I see otherwise. People make choices every day. Young and old alike. And those choices can take us potentially anywhere we want to go. There's more than one way to get there.

I've only just begun.

　

Taking Stock

The end of one year is as good a time as any to take stock; assess where we've been and where we hope to be a year from now. Strategic planning comes more natural to some. I used to think in terms of "the great unknown". Since I could not see the future, I did not try to plan.

My perspective is changing. A year ago, I did not have Diabetes (or at least, I had not been diagnosed). My doctor says it was probably with me for a while before symptoms started to show. Had I known, my actions this past year would have taken a different path.

So now, looking ahead, I'm trying to contemplate my options over the next twelve months. My goals must include an action plan regarding my health. I must develop better awareness, be disciplined enough to check my status on a regular basis and respond accordingly. That means better management.

I understand now that one's status within the realm of Diabetic extremes can change from one year to the next. My medication level has already been increased once. I should do everything in my power to keep my blood sugar in check, to minimize the need for additional measures.

Not so much for me as the ones that I love. My family depends on me to stay healthy, so that I can keep working while we plan our finances for the future as well. (Yes, I'm back to work and feeling good about it.)

I'm working on a trifold strategy that involves full-time employment with potential part-time at a facility closer to home. I'm also pursuing opportunities outside my professional field. At last, I've taken steps to submit samples of my writing and art for publication. Even if it doesn't happen right away, in my heart I believe this could take me in the right direction.

Only time will tell. But it makes me feel more complete. It's the only way that I will ever know. Somewhere along the way, my creative side seemed to get lost. If there's any part of my destiny to be found with expressing this side of myself, the time to discover it is now.

For perhaps the first time in my life, I've got a plan for the next twelve months. It demands more flexibility on my part. An open mind. Not just 9 to 5, five days a week. For me, recent events seemed to be leading up to this, forcing me to accept changes that I might have rejected a few years ago.

Possibility thinking is my new frame of reference. If it's possible, then I must pursue it.

I've witnessed much sorrow the past few weeks and months. People dying all around me. Every time, I wonder about plans not completed. How many of their dreams died with them? I think about all the things left undone. I don't want my life to end that way.

Since I don't know how much time I have left, I need to get on it right now. I still wonder about my destiny. About the paths not taken. Wondering what might have been.

And I keep telling myself -- it's not too late. People 'make over' their lives all the time. They pursue natural, God-given talent that's long been neglected. And sometimes, they succeed in ways never imagined. If such a thing is possible, then I'm going to find out.

A year from now, my life may be completely different than it is today. I hope to have greater awareness and understanding of my Diabetes. At least, I plan to pursue a path of action to bring myself closer to that point. I will work at it, day by day.

It should help me to stay focused. No doubt I will need to "take stock" more often, assessing my progress. I must keep checking, each step of the way.

Perhaps you have similar goals and dreams. Where would you like to be? What is possible?

Let's find out -- together.

　

To New Beginnings

I can't sleep. All this talk about the Mayan Calendar. What does it really mean? Will there be a change in the world as we know it? Can we start over again?

People do it all the time. Sometimes it happens with a flip of the calendar, or a birthday. It happens when people get married, welcome their first child, enter a new home or start a new job.

For me it started with my diagnosis in August. Type 2 Diabetes is now with me for life.

It's ever-present on my mind. It changes the way I think about food and exercise. Every time I look in the mirror, I wonder what it's doing to my body. I try to be more aware. With every little ache or pain, I can't help but wonder if it's part of the process. How will each day compare to the last?

I believe change is coming, for all of us. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon. It may begin so slightly that you cannot feel it. Just wait. When it spreads far enough, you'll know it.

This reminds me of 9-1-1. It seemed like just another day. The first report reached me by radio. I barely even noticed. Not until later, with all the dramatic TV footage, did it begin to sink in.

Then the fallout began. Over weeks and months, everything changed. My life was turned upside down. It set us on a path that forced us to make many choices we never anticipated. It led to the close of my private practice, a new direction for my career and finding a new place to live.

Looking back, we now see a dividing line, before and after. Not just for us, but for life in America as we knew it. And it's never been the same.

I'm anticipating that kind of change. Hopefully, for the better.

When first told that I had Diabetes, I did not know what it would mean. My understanding of that changes over time. The life-altering impact of my condition comes in stages. A year from now, it will undoubtedly mean something more than it does to me right now. And more a year after that.

So what about the Mayan Calendar? My wife and I keep watching for signs. We have been already.

The world needs to change. All the wrongs need to be righted. The suffering must come to an end. I'm not sure how this will happen. But I think it will be impossible to escape. Like an avalanche, or a tidal wave. It will find each of us, where we live.

It will involve some kind of acceptance ... of truth that has long been denied.

Once we do, everything will be different. Like 9-1-1. We'll know when it all began. Our world will not be the same.

I hope it happens soon.

Another Turn

It's inevitable. Beyond the holiday rush lies a New Year, with all of its unknowns, waiting for each of us. Another turn of the calendar ... another chapter in our lives.

It will be my first with Diabetes. A year ago, I had no idea this would be the case. When I think of all the unknowns I encountered this year, it boggles my mind!

My wife and I like to think of ourselves as survivors. No matter what happens, we circle the wagons, gather our resources, and together, come up with a plan. We've done it before. And each time, there's always that period of limbo, before the new path takes shape.

I'm trying to be more flexible, keep my mind open, allow for any possibility -- and stay busy. Every plan takes steps to put it in motion. There is no time to waste. We don't know exactly what to expect, but we're trying to prepare for any direction.

I used to be just the opposite. I'd choose a path and expect it to go on forever. I could not imagine any change. Maybe because I was young. I could not foresee any bumps in the road. But of course, I wasn't looking, either.

My wife is better, in this regard. She's more observant, looking for signs. I noticed this first with the weather. I thought she was obsessed. But I can't tell you how many times her efforts have paid off. Dressing properly before you walk out the door can make all the difference in the world.

When we attend any event, she always reminds me who's likely to be there. What topics to avoid. (People can be so nibby at times. It saves a lot of grief if you don't get them started.) I've learned to follow her example.

I'm facing this year with a new mindset. Age is a big part of that. Everyone goes through transition, from one decade to the next. Goals change, depending on where you happen to be.

Looking at my Dad, now in his seventies, I see a different man. He's facing a whole new set of circumstances compared to when he was my age. With any luck, I've got at least twenty years before it happens to me. No question about change -- it's coming.

In some ways, I'm thinking this might be my last chance. To do what I'm capable of. To put my talents to the test and find out what's possible. At least then I'll know that I tried.

When unexpected things happen, the effects may be twofold. We can mourn what is lost, and spend all our time looking back (never a good idea) or open our eyes to new possibilities. If things happen for a reason, then we must not be blind.

My wife and I are always trying to figure it out. What does this mean? Why is this person in my life? Why did this happen? What is God trying to tell me? There's a path here to be found.

And so these questions naturally arise at the start of a New Year. Right now, we're in limbo. But it won't last for long. We'll find our footing.

And Diabetes will be with me, each step of the way.

Holiday Wishes

Given the traditions of this season, and all the memories of childhood, it seems only natural to dream a little -- even if only for a moment. I dream of Christmas past, the people who've meant so much to me, the times in my life so sweet that I'd like to relive them. And I sometimes I dream about a better world.

This time I'm not complaining about Diabetes. My diagnosis could have been a lot worse. When I first experienced dramatic weight loss and weakness, I feared it might be cancer. I thought my life was over and there was nothing I could do about it.

Even though it's a common condition, at least I didn't "catch it" from someone else. It's been with me all my life -- the possibility, at least -- tucked away inside my genetic code. If I had known my mother was afflicted, I might have been better prepared for the eventuality.

This season is all about others. About the way things used to be, the way they should be still, and what we can do to make life better for someone else.

At least we try. When gifts are given -- not simply out of obligation to conform but with sincere well-wishing -- we're doing the right thing. It's not the gift, but the thought behind it. A way to show how much we care.

I don't pay much attention to the news. But I know the world can be an awful place. I see people suffering around me every day. And I see plenty of folks driven by all the wrong desires, taking advantage, dealing in falsehoods and doing harm, when all of that would be completely unnecessary -- if only their heart was in the right place.

We had an appointment with an attorney in downtown Youngstown. I'd never met the man. We'd only spoken once before this meeting by phone. He seemed to want our business (or maybe it was just our money). When he gave us a time to come in, it sounded like an invitation. I explained our situation, and he said that he could help.

But he was not very friendly. Reluctant to shake my hand, never smiling, staring at his notepad most of the time. He seemed annoyed. As if we were wasting his time.

And even though he was rude, talking down to us, insulting our intelligence, acting as if we had no right to ask his opinion, I pretended not to notice. I thanked him for being so kind. Because even though he treated us like deadbeats, in his rantings, we found out what we needed to know.

He insulted us once more as we parted, implying that he probably would not get paid. But we knew otherwise. (Though he refused to accept payment by debit card, or give us a walk out statement, we mailed him a check the following day.)

My wife was very upset. It took us hours to calm down afterward. And I thought, He could have accomplished just as much -- or more -- by being nice. Why was that so hard for him? All I could think was that he must have a miserable life. Over 60 years of age, working on the sixth floor of a revamped department store, labeled an associate. He must be unhappy.

Personal unhappiness does not give you the right to mistreat others. I wish more people could understand that.

And I wish for much more, of course. My wife and I so often talk about the way things should be. The way we remember them. Life less complicated. People less driven by greed, more devoted to helping one another.

Each year at Christmas, it seems like a few of us, at least, slow down just enough to size up the world around us. To consider what we can do to help. Personally, our finances have not been so good lately. I'm in between jobs. But we always give to Salvation Army.

My uncle, in his late seventies, just got out of the hospital, after breaking his hip. He still has a long way to go. We're planning to visit. After losing Mom a year ago, I feel the need to visit people more. Time runs out so quickly.

Best wishes...to you and yours.

Opening My World

My world as it relates to Diabetes is beginning to open up. For the first time, I finally decided to read some other blogs to see what people are saying. I never imagined this whole thing could be so complex. For myself, I've tried to keep it simple, but I can see that for many people trying to manage their condition, that's not an option.

People talk about monitoring blood sugar at different times of day, before and after meals, fasting every night to check their "fasting blood sugar" number in the morning.

I did the fasting routine for three months. Since my diagnosis was based on such a reading, I thought it best to take all of my home readings the same way -- for comparison. And I still think it's a good idea.

But I don't keep track of carbs. I don't keep a journal of everything I eat, then check my blood 1 or 2 hours afterward, to see what it's doing to my body. Of course, I try to eat good carbs most of the time. We went through all that, changing our food selection choices at the grocery store -- months ago.

I eat or drink nothing that contains sugar (or at least, not more than 4 grams per serving). I take my medication twice a day, as prescribed. Admittedly, I have not been checking my blood.

And I'm getting the picture that people experience Diabetes in a wide variety of ways. Different dosages and combinations of medication. Different ways to monitor their progress.

Up to now, I probably haven't given it as much thought as most people. I haven't considered all the many ways blood sugar can fluctuate, before and after meals, before and after physical activity. Or the effect that stress can have upon the way your body handles all of the above.

I've pushed it out of my mind, because I don't want to think about it. I don't want to devote time and energy to body chemistry -- because I never did before. It's something I've done all my life, a way of trying to cope. Every day, I see people who get overwhelmed, stressing out over so many things. Things they cannot change.

That's why we stopped watching the news. We realized that 99% of what they report has nothing to do with us, has no effect on our lives, and we might never know about it without watching the broadcast. So why get upset? Why worry about events happening far away? Why subject ourselves? It can serve no useful purpose.

The 1% that matters we'll hear about anyway. From everyone else around us. So we'll know what we need to know.

This strategy has worked, for the most part. It helps us to focus more on our own lives. That gives us plenty to worry about.

And I know that my view of this whole Diabetes thing will evolve over time. One reader's comment on another site mentioned that he had been dealing with Type 2 for over ten years. Right now, it's hard for me to imagine that.

I want to keep thinking "This is it". I've accepted the diagnosis, I'm watching what I eat, I'm taking medication. End of story. But that's probably unrealistic.

God knows what the doctor will say next time I go in February. I don't want more complications. No more steps to follow, or things to keep track of. No meds added to my routine.

How many people die from this condition? Is it rare or a common event? Will it kill me eventually? Is that what I have to look forward to? Is it only a matter of time?

Of course, I'm still a newbie. Facing all the fears, just like everyone else. I try not to think about it, but that's impossible. It's a part of my life now. I must face up to it every day.

My world is opening up. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. It's probably inevitable. A reality I cannot escape. I only hope it enables me to make better sense of it all.

Sometimes, it scares me.

Suggestions, Anyone?

When Diabetes came into my life, it changed everything. Even though personally I'm still trying to deal with this objectively as something that must be managed -- like any other condition such as hayfever, high blood pressure, etc -- I'm still rejecting the notion of a label. I might be coping with it, trying to adapt to it, but it's not what I am.

Does anyone else feel this way? Can you treat it objectively without emotion?

I try not to be angry. Even though it bothers me to take the medication every day. It bothers me because I don't really know what those pills are doing to me. I can't seem to understand why they must be taken every single day -- for the rest of my life. It bothers me every time the doctor refers to Diabetes as "a wasting disease" -- as if it's my fault somehow. As if I did something to bring this on. But I didn't. I've always been careful. Always avoided bad habits. Always tried to make the right decisions regarding my health -- even when people all around me did the opposite -- including my parents.

And because this strategy seemed to work, for the most part -- no hospital stays, no incapacitating illnesses, nothing to slow me down or interfere with my life (and feeling fine almost all the time except for an occasional cold or bout with the flu) -- I felt good about the choices I had made.

This whole thing came upon me unexpectedly. I've always been a healthy person. All the way up to age fifty, I still felt pretty much the same as I did at thirty. I kept my weight within a certain range, got plenty of sleep, tried to eat right, brushed and flossed my teeth every day.

It bothers me that now, all of a sudden, I have to take pills every day. I've stopped checking my blood ever since my doctor upped my medication level. (I never needed a doctor before, so I'm really not that thrilled about having one. I don't trust doctors. I know how things work. How everyone has to make money. He's younger than me, and I don't like that either. Everyone said this would happen, as you get older. Suddenly, all the "decision makers" -- people providing healthcare, running companies, all the people "in charge" of everything seem to be younger -- and I don't trust their ability to make the right decision.)

So, here I am, trying to do the right thing. Trying to listen to my wife -- she always gives good advice, and she's usually right most of the time -- but sometimes I wish she wasn't. I wish I had another choice.

It's an unpleasant reality. It seems that I'm forced to recognize who the power brokers are -- the young people with money or influence which enables them to control others. Any more, my age is no longer an asset, but a handicap. I'm over fifty, and suddenly that means I'm not worth as much as before. I'm someone to push around, give orders to, someone who must buckle under, give in to other people's demands -- or they'll kick me to the curb.

I'm trying to maintain my self-esteem. Trying to keep a stiff upper lip. Trying to fight the good fight. Tell myself it's best to keep working, be a "team player" because it keeps me on the team. I see other people doing this all the time.

Very few people are able to make it on their own. I've researched and researched, looking for ways to support myself, access my own skills and abilities, try to find a way to make money from home, perform a service or create items of value that would give me independence -- give me the choice to stay home and still pay my bills. I'm working on several possibilities.

I don't want to be one of those people still punching the clock at age 65. I don't want to be totally dependent on someone else until the day that I die. I've heard stories about too many other people getting pushed out of their careers by someone younger who thinks they know a better way to do things.

I keep thinking someone has figured this out. There must be an example I can follow.

Others read this blog, besides me. I see the numbers. Surely, they have dealt with these kinds of questions. Diabetes has simply brought it more to my attention. I'm focused more now than ever before. There must be an answer.

Okay. Any suggestions?

Making Memories

The Holiday Season affords each of us an opportunity to make a memory for someone else. This time of year, like no other, brings to mind reflections of the past. Reminders are all around us. It happens to me.

The sights and sounds are unavoidable. Childhood replays itself as we see little ones all around us. I can't help but wonder how their memories will compare to mine.

Christmas can bring back the joys of long ago or force us to wallow in sadness. Even some of the songs can make one happy or sad, depending on your point of view. It's like all the years of our lives come back to haunt us. Reflection can be painful when you feel like things are getting worse instead of better.

Whether we like it or not, this year will be remembered. But how?

Not for the gifts. Few of us recall the packages we've unwrapped year after year. But we do remember the time we spend with other people. When times were good or bad. I remember the look on their faces.

So many people feel lonely or sad this time of year. Like nobody cares. Like their lives do not matter. Another year has come and gone, with no achievement. Nothing to feel good about.

When we're out and about, I see the sad faces in stores. Trying to buy gifts they cannot afford. You can just tell it's a struggle. Christmas is like a burden thrust upon them by all the retailers. Expectations they cannot meet. And yet they try, not for themselves but someone else. Little ones at home not yet burdened by realities that weigh us all down.

It would too easy for me to mark this year as my first with Diabetes. I don't want to do that. I don't want to spend every minute feeling blue -- because it won't do any good. For years, my wife and I have said, "It's not about us. It's about them (meaning the kids). But it occurs to me now, the meaning should be broader than that. Really, it's all about others.

My uncle just broke his hip falling at home. Retired, he lives alone. In the past few years, he lost his wife and one son. Even his son's dog. He has one daughter who still lives here. Another son is in Florida.

After surgery he'll be in hospital rehab. Probably for several months. It's got to make him feel sad. We're planning to visit. I keep thinking no one wants to be there -- especially this time of year.

I've always liked Uncle Jerry. He's a man of few words, with a dry sense of humor. A 'down to earth' sort of guy. Hard working, he stayed at GM for years beyond retirement age, because he could not yet afford it. Financial burdens gave him no other choice. But he never complained. He came to our 4th of July gathering each year and put on a smile, in spite of his pain.

Once, when we were kids, still living in Cleveland, my brother and I had a sleepover at Jerry's apartment. I can't recall exactly when or why. He was a bachelor. No wife. No kids. We ate poptarts for breakfast. But we had fun. It's a memory I cherish to this day -- thanks to him.

When my mom got sick two years ago, we did not expect her to die. She went for radiation and chemo and even got better for a while. The last time I saw her at Christmas, it was the best she'd looked in years. She had color in her face, fixed her hair and seemed to be on the mend. A few months later, she got worse all over again, and never recovered.

My Uncle Jerry is mom's brother. I'm afraid what this may do to him. He's had trouble walking the past few years. He doesn't like to drive much because he's not good with directions.

I don't want this Christmas to be his last, feeling sad in the hospital. And I certainly don't plan to be thinking about myself. Diabetes is minor compared to his sorrows.

We're going to visit. Today after work, if possible. I'm not sure exactly what to say. But I know he'll be glad to see us. Hospitals can be so lonely and sad. We've got to brighten his spirits. Make him feel like he matters. That we care.

Maybe at least, I can help make a memory for him -- one that brings a smile.

Age Old Debate

I overhead two young moms the other day debating what to do about Santa. Do they play along with the whole charade, pretending like he's real, letting their kids find out "the truth" later on, or do they simply spill the beans from the start? It's hard to know which is best.

I believed it when I was a kid. My parents had me totally convinced. Maybe it was easier back in the 1960's. Or maybe it was just easier for me, growing up in a sheltered household, where my parents kept us happy and safe.

Sometimes, I think it's the same way with Diabetes. Especially when it comes to checking my blood. Do I want to "know" or not?

A few years ago, my sister decided to tell her kids while they were still small. I remember thinking it was such a tragedy, robbing them of that childhood fantasy, taking away the "magic" of Christmas. But they seem okay now. No harm done.

In my family, we found out the hard way. One year, around age 10 or 11, I heard my parents throwing a fit in January over all their Christmas bills. At first, it made no sense to me. If everything came from Santa, what were they so upset about? Then it finally dawned on me. The whole "Santa thing" was a crock.

Of course, I had my suspicions. All the department store Santas. Really? Even the guy who came to my kindergarten class, wearing black-rimmed glasses and a beard that kept sliding up and down his chin.

Looking at it now, to kids it must seem like a world-wide conspiracy. Your parents, your teachers and even your church all telling you the same thing. Everywhere, the same story. It must be true. Why would they tell you otherwise?

It's probably the only time in your life when everyone agrees -- except, its a lie!

As an adult, you come to realize that people lie all the time. They do it for lots of reasons. Even good ones. They lie to "protect" you from disappointment, or pain.

I never blamed my parents. They wanted me to be happy. And for a few short years, living in my make-believe world of childhood, I was incredibly happy. It was like a gift. And part of me still cherishes it to this day.

Unfortunately, many make-believe things in life turn out not to be true.

People are not always as good, or sincere, or trustworthy as they first seem to be. Anymore, I find it hard to trust anyone. I'm always looking for the hidden agenda. A few people will surprise you. After all your searching, all your patience, all your meticulous efforts to uncover their "secret" intentions -- you find out there are none.

But mostly, it's the other way around. My wife is a good one with instincts. She can always sense when someone is not to be trusted. She figures it's better to know, before they take advantage.

And so, I'm pretty cautious with most people I meet. Not revealing too much of myself, staying neutral, letting them talk my ear off, telling me "how things are", so I can measure it all in my mind, trying to figure them out.

When my doctor told me I had Diabetes, I knew he was telling me the truth. I didn't want to accept it. But he was going "by definition" from my test results. Then I confirmed it myself -- by the numbers -- over and over again.

He recently doubled the dose on my medication. It bothers me, but I'm going along. Day after day. In February, I'll find out if it worked or not. I'm sure he's only trying to make me better.

But it makes me not want to check. Not want to repeat the daily ritual. Not want to go through the daily anxiety of reading the meter to find out if I'm "okay".

And so, it's like another debate. To know, or not to know?

Of course, I should keep up the routine. I need to know the truth. And I will, eventually. Once my numbers level off, then I can test without fear. Right now, I don't want any bad news. Nothing to spoil my world.

It's nearly Christmas, after all!

　

Holidays...with a Twist

With Thanksgiving under our belts, we forge ahead into the holidays. My first since becoming Diabetic. And so I can't help but wonder how it will differ from seasons past. 

We keep twisting our lives to adapt. How we shop, how we cook, how we eat -- and how we celebrate.

Now I can't expect everyone to prepare sugar-free treats just for me. And I won't bring it up every time we sit down at the table. (I've seen people do this. It puts a damper on the whole thing.)

What does it mean to me? I'll probably be trying to identify the "least harmful" items to eat. Steering away from sweets toward things like crackers and cheese. Drinking diet Coke or Pepsi whenever possible.

Knowing now, (for the first time ever) that my grandmother is also Diabetic, I can select a sugar-free assortment of meltaways from Gorants for her gift, since she loves them so much -- because it's the right thing to do.

I can bypass many traditional delights because they're not good for me, and look the other way when my wife decides to indulge a time or two. She deserves a break. Since we first got the news in August, she's been incredibly supportive.

Foods that I might have steered away from in the past now hold greater appeal. I'll go for veggie trays and dip. Salads and breads and fruits. (This year I enjoyed dressing and gravy like never before.)

But I'll have to be careful with my eyes. (Especially with new glasses.) It's a natural thing that people notice. I must try not to stare. Not to gaze upon pastry in their hands or little napkins stacked high with holiday cookies. I don't want to be the person on a diet who makes everyone else feel guilty.

And I'll be polite. When someone raves, "Oh, you just have to take a bite!" maybe I will, in the Holiday Spirit. Even my doctor said it was okay to "cheat" once in a while.

But I won't sit around looking sad. I won't make annoying comments like "Do you know how much sugar is in that?" Of course, they do. They don't need to be reminded. And they don't need to hear endless boo-hoos from the ex-smoker who's just "dying for a cigarette".

Who knows? We may not even make it to Christmas. The Mayan calendar ends 12-21-12. It could be the end of life as we know it. All the preparations, all the worry could be for naught. Forget Diabetes.

If nothing happens, I'll be surprised.

My mom's been gone a year now. Our second family Christmas without her. We're talking about eating out, together at some restaurant (no decision yet on which one), then returning home to open gifts. We've never done that before. Will it lessen the strain or increase it? I cannot even guess.

With the kids in our family getting older, we should have less opening of packages than in the past. My wife and I are thinking about gift cards for everyone on our list. Somehow, we don't "feel it" so much this year. All we can think about is all the people suffering in New York and New Jersey from Hurricane Sandy. For the first time, we became especially conscious of all the corporate sponsors in the Macy's parade. It seemed more like advertising than anything else.

So what's up with the Mars "discovery"? They say it could be 'history in the making'. We just started watching season four of Ancient Aliens on DVD from the History Channel. Makes you wonder if the current Middle East conflict is part of a grander scheme. Does anyone else feel like this scenario might be reminiscent of 9-1-1? Everything changed after that.

We still look back on the days before 2001 with fond remembrance. Much the same way I look back on my life before I was diagnosed with Diabetes. Nothing's the same.

No doubt every member of my family will try to keep up the holiday tradition, with all the frivolity we can muster. Plans will be made, gifts will be purchased and we'll anticipate a "time to remember". It'll be my first season with Diabetes. We may even get visitors from outer space.

Yes. I'm expecting a "twist" this year -- in more ways than one.

　

The Eyes Have It

Today's the day. Five years (at least, maybe more) since I got a new pair of prescription eyeglasses, and I'm going in. I know my eyes have changed. They told me so when I had a Diabetic eye exam in September. The news was good at that point (no signs of retinopathy or any other problems) except that my vision was blurred.

Well the blurriness is gone. I can see everything clearly (except for small print) without glasses at all -- just like before. So I said to my wife, "Why go?" and she said, "Because you're due!" She's better than me about things like that. Doing stuff that "needs to be done" whether you want to or not.

Without her at my side, I might not do a lot of things. Like attending birthday parties for my niece and nephew (which inevitably take up half of a perfectly good Sunday afternoon), or calling hours at funeral homes for people I've never met (but happen to know a coworker or extended family member), or weddings, or...well, you get the idea.

My wife is like my own personal Jiminy Cricket. (You know, Pinocchio? "And always let your conscience be your guide!".)

I go along, because I know that she's right. She's always had a knack for making friends and keeping them. She knows what people expect and how they interpret all kinds of behavior.

She taught me how to take an interest in others. To ask about their children/ pets/ homes/ activities/ disappointments/ joys in life, etc. People expect you to ask. They expect you to care. And when you do, they not only take it as a compliment, but they tend to like you more back. It's a reciprocal thing. And it works.

We all need help from time to time. It behooves us to gather as many allies as possible, wherever we happen to be.

I used to forget people's names almost instantly. Even after I'd seen them over and again. Because it didn't seem to matter. Out of sight, out of mind. It didn't matter to me, but it mattered to them. I just didn't realize it.

Another thing was eye contact. I used to avoid it pretty much. Not wanting to get too close, to feel their eyes scanning me, to think about how they must be "sizing me up" the way most people do the first time they meet. The whole thing gave me the creeps.

But it also put me at a disadvantage. Without eye contact, people could never really get to know me. Everything stayed superficial, with no growth in the relationship. Keeping everyone at arm's length, made them acquaintances (but not friends) forever.

I used to think "what relationship"? They're just somebody I know. But very few people have the ability to stay neutral. They either like you or they don't. And when the chips are down, when someone else has the power to influence your fate, nine times out of ten, it's better for them to be your ally. (You might say "The I's have it" -- the ability to make your life better or worse.)

Of course it doesn't always work. But it's worth a try.

I don't possess a lot of natural charm. I've never been very good at winning strangers over to my side. The key here seems to be "make sure they're not strangers for long". The more you get to know them, the more they get to know you and bingo -- you've found a friend. The more people you interact with from day to day, the more friends you need.

So now that I have Diabetes, I also realize that I share something in common with every single person who has this condition. I see the medication in their chart and think, "Oh my god -- just like me!" And it's a moment of revelation. I wonder how they're coping from day to day with all the same challenges and how it affects their view on life.

My doctor likes to call it a disease. He keeps saying how it's "wasting" away at my body. Sucking the life out of me. He sounds like a broken record. I don't want to think about it that way. I don't want to feel as if the clock is suddenly ticking toward my cruel and bitter fate. I'd rather think of it as something to be managed -- but a condition I can live with.

At least my eyes are finally back to normal. All I need is a new pair of glasses. (My wife just reminded me, again.) For two months at least, I had trouble. Wondering if my vision would come back.

As an artist (my inner self at least, long before I ever went to college) light, and color and motion (I've always loved movies) mean a great deal. It also means I can better connect with people. For a while, I feared my enjoyment of life might diminish.

Now they're back. The eyes have it -- and I, for one, am glad.

　

　

Keepin' it Real

My job keeps me on the road quite a bit these days. And it changes one's perspective. Downtime in the car allows my mind to roam. I find myself asking questions about where I am (in life) and where I'd like to be.

My wife used to say that our lives are divided in phases of about 25 years (give or take a few). The first 25, we grow up, get an education, get married and have kids. The second, we strive to acquire a home, raise our kids and plan for retirement. The third, (hopefully) we establish an exit strategy from our careers, watch our kids get married, and enjoy what's left before old age takes hold, zapping our energy and strength.

Not everything goes according to plan. With graduate school and career bumps, it took me until age 36 to clear phase one. Right now, I'm somewhere between phase 2 and 3. My age was never much of a concern until now. Diabetes is making me feel old. It's a sign of mortality that I hadn't anticipated.

Since the moment I graduated from college, I heard financial planners say, "Invest in your retirement". But for me, it was never possible. Between repayment of student loans and trying to keep a roof over my head, there was never enough to put aside. I tried setting up an IRA once, but it never grew much, because I could not make regular contributions. Then I was self employed for a while. Finally, I ended up cashing it out after 10 years to solve a money crunch.

An employer's 401K did enable to me to acquire a small nest egg over a period of about 4 years, but I could not survive on it for more than six months. So retirement is out of the question right now. (I still have a goal in mind, about ten years down the road.)

Many people over fifty are seeing their plans go awry. Forced out before retirement age, using up their savings prematurely, seeking work for less pay simply to cover the bills.

This brings me back to those long commutes, wrestling with myself in the car. I keep trying to assess my skills and consider the possibilities. Every one of us has untapped potential. Avenues we elected not to pursue early in life, that may still be explored, if we are brave enough to try.

Ever read about people 'starting over' at forty...or fifty? Some do. They finally pour their efforts into some dream they once harbored, finding success at last, doing something they really love. (For me, it was always art.)

So I'm wondering if this newfound awareness of my mortality should motivate me to pursue a dream. Not in a foolish way. Not chucking my 'day job' without something to fall back on. But taking the time available to me, on nights and weekends, to develop my skills and find an outlet.

My art ability was something I never really learned, because it came naturally. And though I pursued it with great intensity as a youth in many ways (drawing, painting, sculpting, movie make-up, film-making), when it came time to choose a college major, I chose a career in healthcare because I was afraid of wasting my parents' money.

Every so often I would dabble in art, to see if the skill was still there. Incredibly, the talent survives.

Fear is a great obstacle. Diabetes, in a way, is forcing me to confront my fears. I stayed away from art out of fear. Fear of failure. But now I'm ready to try it again. Because I see other people doing it every day.

I was always afraid of oil painting. I thought it might be too hard to learn. Too complicated. Too expensive. Recently, I acquired some oil paints and created my first work of art in that medium. It was time consuming, yes, but not difficult. I already possess an eye for color and composition. All I have to do is apply it.

So now, I'm ready for more.

I keep thinking, maybe this is what I'm supposed to do. Explore a god-given talent while I still possess enough strength and enthusiasm to do so. Make it part of my reality.

Maybe that's what "Keepin' it Real" should mean for me.

Round Two

The results came in from my blood work. My sugar level was good (121). But there was another number, A1C, which read at 8.0. (Supposedly the norm should be 6.5 or less). Even though I don't understand the importance of it, my doctor had said it might be necessary to adjust my medication level. So, another trip to the pharmacy for more pills.

My wife keeps telling me I have to do this. I'm only doing it for her. I don't believe in all this medication. Why? Because I feel fine.

I'm very wary of side effects. I've managed to live my life for fifty years without taking prescriptions. Now, maybe my blood chemistry has changed. Maybe this is simply an attempt to replace what's missing.

Only time will tell. I've heard stories about one medication causing a side effect. Prescribing another medication to counteract it. Then another side effect, and so on. I've heard people tell me they take ten or twenty pills a day. And they almost never feel good with that kind of routine.

"This time," I said, "I'll go along." But I'm not a lab rat. And I don't want to feel like someone else's science experiment.

Maybe this is normal, early on. Making adjustments until the numbers line up. Then, hopefully, once I'm stabilized, I can stick to a routine without change. I'd like that.

It happened to my brother. He takes more than one pill a day.

But it also happened to my mom. That worries me more. She died from cancer. In the end she took more pills per day than I ever thought possible. I just don't want this whole thing to get out of hand. I don't need to make my life more complicated. It makes me wonder how long this whole "process" will take.

It also makes me wonder how long I will live. Of course, no one knows. But I've always hoped for a lifespan consistent with that of my parents. Dad's seventy-five. I should have twenty-five more years.

It's not the length per se that matters, but time. Time to do other things. To pursue my goals and dreams. To spend with my wife. Trips we'd like to take. Places we'd like to see. Plans we've made.

No doubt this will be one round of many. I remember my brother telling me how he had to keep going back to the doctor's office every three months for a refill on his prescriptions.

I can understand how some people get fed up. I've heard more than one person say, "I'm supposed to take some medicine, but I stopped. And I don't go to the doctor any more."

Now, of course, I'm sure it is probably best to follow medical advice. And I'm struggling to reach that comfort level. That level of trust. To believe that it is best for me.

Fear is ever present. But I don't want to be controlled by it. People use fear all the time to manipulate others. They dream up scenarios to frighten them about what might happen. I'm leary of those kinds of predictions. Anything might happen. That doesn't mean it will. Something inside tells me not to fall for that.

I'd rather take it day by day. Look for the signs, but not obcess over them.

Too much awareness can mess up your mind. All the media outlets surrounding us. Bombarding us with messages. (Most of them designed to push us toward one action or another. And it's all for profit.) Sometimes, I get information overload. So, I turn off the television and the radio.

And it can be an amazing thing. When you turn off all the noise, it enables you to think clearly about things you never thought before. It frees your mind. Some of the best ideas I've ever had came to me this way.

Okay. Three more months. I'll stick to the plan and see what develops.

Until the next round begins.

　

　

　

Deja Vu

Three months since my diagnosis with Type 2, and there I was, in the doctor's office, getting my blood drawn. A new nurse this time (let's call her Chatty Cathy) making all the pleasant small talk one might expect. "Here for bloodwork?" she asked. I might have said, "I'm not here for my health!" -- but of course, I was.

The concept of drawing blood doesn't thrill me. I do not really trust the medical profession. Maybe it's all the pharmaceutical ads with "actor portrayals" instead of real physicians. (Although this seems to be the case less and less, with 'real doctors' showing up on infomercials to sell everything from weight loss pills to miracle skin cream.)

I always feel like they're on a fishing expedition. It also seems to me like every so often, the 'standards of normal' get revised downward, narrowing the range, so increasing numbers of people can be diagnosed with high levels of one thing or another, requiring medication to bring it down. (Years ago, I had one doctor rubbing his hands with anticipation as his assistant stuck a needle in my arm. It was almost as if he was excited about what they might find.)

This was the same doctor who put my wife on more than one medication for high cholesterol. One gave her a run down feeling all the time, zapping her energy and motivation. Another caused a panic attack, making her feel like she could not breathe for almost an hour. They ended up taking that one off the market. (We later switched to another physician who did similar tests, took her off all medication, and she's been fine ever since.)

And Chatty Cathy? She stuck me twice. The first arm did not surrender enough blood.

So my doctor came in to repeat the same speech about Diabetes. Even though I was feeling encouraged by a weight gain of five pounds (after losing twenty without explanation prior to diagnosis), he told me that we want it to 'level off' now, so that everything will stabilize. He said they would be checking my blood sugar and cholesterol. He also said they'd be checking kidney and liver function. If everything looks good, they might even extend my next visit to six months instead of three. He gave a refill on my medication. (A ninety day supply this time -- that's one big bottle of pills.)

For someone who's always been so healthy, this whole Diabetes thing feels like a mistake. Like it wasn't supposed to happen. I still keep thinking it might somehow go away. I've totally adjusted my routine, changed my eating habits, and I feel fine. (My blood pressure that day was 106/72. How great is that?)

We may get results sometime today by phone. I'm really hoping everything will be okay. I'd like to stop thinking about this for a while. Take my daily medicine and forget about it. (I keep thinking there must be a way to get around this. To improve my levels to the point where I can get off medication and live like a normal person. In spite of all my self-talk, and efforts on acceptance, it's a thought that won't go away.)

Of course, it's not the worse thing that could happen. It just makes me different than before. I don't see why this change should occur just because I turned fifty. One day I'm fine, the next day I'm not. (Not completely true, of course, since it took several months for me to realize that something was wrong, and my doctor told me that I've probably had the condition longer than that.)

A doctor's office is just not my favorite place to be. I'm still bound and determined to spend as little time there as possible. After witnessing what happened to several people, enduring extended treatment for cancer, with months and months of misery, only to die anyway, my wife and I have made a vow not to do the same. (I still believe that medical care should be a personal decision, and each person should have a choice about how much care they wish to receive.)

Does it not feel like a major shift has taken place? I understand that the costs for healthcare providers keep going up, making it harder and harder for them to survive on their own. That's why so many join medical groups. That's why they go to work for corporations. I do appreciate the fact that my physician continues his own private practice.

So, here I am patiently waiting, hoping for good results.

It's like deja vu.

　

　

　

　

　

What's your plan?

I hear it all the time. People talk about careers, or house-hunting or the upcoming football season. Any time we embark on some new venture, the question arises. So it seems logical to ask the same question about Diabetes.

When I was a kid, plans were simple. My parents got married, found jobs, bought a house, raised kids. End of plan.

School was pretty much the same. Go to class. Do your homework. Study. (Admittedly, I liked school.  Books and me got along.) I liked it so much, that after graduation, I kept on going. For eight more years. (By then, the appeal was gone.)

We all make plans, every day. Some more complicated than others. Some people draw up elaborate plans. I've read books on the subject. The authors are so super-organized, it sounds impossible. Calendars and journals filled out in explicit detail -- days, weeks and months ahead of time.

Now people put everything in their cell phones. It's all in there.

But how often do plans go awry? Meeting dates change. Appointments need rescheduled. Endless emails back and forth. Sometimes I think people spend twice as much time rearranging their plans, confirming them with others, than it takes to do the actual thing they had "planned" in the first place.

It's okay to change it, they say, so long as you replace one plan with another. (I make mini-plans all day. Most of mine are short term. To get through the next hour, the next day, or next week.)

But too much planning makes me feel stifled. Like I can barely breathe. There's no room to take a walk, or play with your dog, or visit a friend. No time to relax. We're not supposed to live that way.

I try to be flexible (sometimes it's not easy, because I don't like surprises). So I'm constantly trying to adapt. Wherever I happen to be, it's all about getting my bearings. Who, What, Why -- and When. When is a biggie. (We all keep track of time.) For me, it's how long until I go home.

Sometimes I wonder. What kind of plan do I need?

Planners act as if they're in control. But they're not. It's an illusion. (Remember Jurassic Park? Classic example.) Things can change any time.

So, I plan to eat right. Been doing that for months already. It's second nature by now.

I plan to check my blood. Ditto. Not my favorite part of the day. It seems so unnatural to make myself bleed on purpose. Holding my breath for five seconds, waiting for that number to appear. High or Low? Bad or Good?

I plan to take my medicine. Twice a day, every day. (The concept of forever still bothers me. But I always said I could live with it.)

Beyond that, I'm not so sure. Should I plan for complications? Should I fret about what lies ahead?

I've never been good at that. My wife is much better. She frets about everything. Every storm, every holiday, every event that's about to happen. We gas up the car. We lay everything out. We dress early. (Usually, we're the first ones to arrrive.)

Diabetes? I'm almost afraid to read much about it. I'd rather live here and now. My "plan'? To get through the day, and pretend that it's not really affecting my life.

Okay. What's yours?

Crunch Time

It's been nearly three months since my diagnosis with Type 2 Diabetes. My prescription for Metformin is about to run out, and I have a doctor's appointment in several days. Hard to believe. Somehow, it seems longer.

I've been instructed to fast again the night before. They'll probably check my blood.

I'll want the reading to be good, so maybe I'll rake some leaves the night before. Still have plenty of those around, and it seems to do the trick. For now, I'm hoping to keep everything the same. No new meds. No more change in my routine.

I've had enough change for a while. Alterations to my diet, daily readings, adapting to new ways of thought. I'm not the same person I was three months ago. Not exactly.

And I know this'll probably be another ritual. Every three months, to get my prescription renewed. Although it seems like a "racket", from my doctor's point of view, it probably makes sense. The only way to be sure.

And I've heard tales. Just the other day, I overheard a conversation about someone who's "blood sugar was all out of whack". I guess she wound up in the hospital. Well, that's not for me.

I'm feeling stronger these days. My face is not so drawn. And even though I haven't checked it on the scale, it feels like I've gained a few pounds. My new routine is in place, and I'm working on other goals.

The initial "setback" appears to be over. I just want to move on, being mindful of my condition, taking care of myself without obsessing over it. (Hard to do, since I have that tendency -- a touch of OCD -- obsessive compulsive disorder. Just enough to keep me organized, without going crazy.)

All the little habits add up. As a kid, I took some phrases to heart (Early to bed, early to rise...) because I don't like surprises, and I don't like "burning the candle at both ends". I had enough experience with "all-nighters" in college to make me realize I didn't want to make it a habit. I see too many people still, running themselves down, robbing themselves of energy and motivation, when it's just not necessary.

It used to be about keeping my mind alert, my body in shape (without endless trips to the gym or vigorous daily exercise -- something I could not bring myself to do.) Now I'm hoping it'll just slow the aging process and help me live longer.

Not everyone ages the same. I know that for a fact. I see it every day. Part of it's how people live -- daily choices, over and over again. Constant wear and tear. Part of it's mental attitude. We once had an assistant who moaned and groaned all the time about "how old" she was. Getting "too old" for this or that. Making excuses for herself all the time. Well, that was over ten years ago. I've surpassed her age since (she was fifty), but I don't feel that way at all.

We've had plenty of hard knocks. Financial hurdles. Career change. (At one point, moving twice in one year, dealing with the death of our cherished family pet, and separation from our son as he faced his first year in college.)

Everyone deals with hardship. We all suffer loss.

Some people complain about everything. My mother-in-law does that. She's over 90 with nearly perfect health, in a facility where people care for her around the clock, and receives regular visits at least two or three times a week. Good meals. Activities all the time. Plenty of people that she knows, from her hometown. (My wife and I say "we should be so lucky" some day.) Yet she complains. It's like her favorite pass time.

I know people have their reasons. Most often it's poor health, or bad luck, or a long string of "things that didn't work out". Bad things happen to everyone. But we've got to get past it. Why? Because the alternative is worse, letting it drag you down, making you so bitter and unpleasant that no one wants to be around you.

I coach myself constantly. Trying to stay motivated. Looking for good things.

Diabetes definitely threw me for a loop. It wasn't a part of my "plan". But I'm dealing with it the best that I can. And now, it's time to return to my doctor's office, where it feels like this whole thing began. Crunch Time.

Wish me luck.

　

　

Forever More

There are moments that change your life forever. When you fall in love, when you lose someone dear, when a child is born. Many more have the potential to change, and when they happen, you do not know which direction that potential will take. In such moments, it seems, you find yourself at a crossroads. You can feel it inside. "Everything's about to change." It fills you with fear and excitement (like the first ride on a roller coaster), all at the same time.

The longer I live, the more I realize that such moments can be few and far between. But they are often the ones worth living for. Looking back, they form a kind of map, showing all the steps taken. All the forces at work in our lives. And they not only help us understand who we are, but how we got here.

Even tragedy can be a godsend. Because every time something goes wrong, it forces us to reevaluate our current path and turn, one way or another. And even though, at the time, it may feel like we're making a "terrible choice", that's only because it's hard to cope with the consequences. What if we make a mistake? What if our plans fall apart?

People make mistakes all the time. It's part of the human condition. With the best of intentions and all the odds in our favor (or so it seems), one may still choose the wrong path.

But it does not guarantee defeat.

I've taken plenty of missteps. So often, they lead me to people and places that I might never have found otherwise. And this makes me wonder if they were "meant to be" in the first place. If all the "hard lessons learned" were necessary to form my character. To make me the person that I am.

This is one thing I've always loved about good movies. To watch a character be transformed through their own mistakes, and how they face consequences that life brings upon them. To witness the soul searching. To ask myself at the same time, "What would I do, if this happened to me?"

Some movies change the entertainment landscape. They mark a moment in cinematic history. From the instant they hit the big screen, people will remember forever the effect it had on their lives. And every film maker knows that his or her efforts will be forever measured against that achievement.

Not all will agree. Some will deny that anything significant has occurred. People often dismiss the truth, especially if some aspect of its contents do not jive with their personal philosophy.

Last night, my wife and I witnessed such an achievement. For nearly three hours, we were completely mesmerized by the wonders presented in "Cloud Atlas". It's so hard to describe. I fear any attempt may not do it justice. See it.

Every Diabetic understands what it means to encounter that "moment". When everything changed. When their life took a turn that could not be reversed. It's a path they can never escape. And now they must learn to deal with it.

Given what I have since learned about my own family, it seems the path may have been unavoidable. Somehow, I just didn't see it coming. I cannot help but ponder the significance of this change. It affects every day of my life. I still think about "before" and "after". How my world has been transformed.

Of course, it's not all bad. It has created within me a new kind of awareness. It makes me wonder how other people feel about their own "life changing" afflictions. Some people cope better than others. Some sing "woe is me" in a neverending refrain. Some become activists, seeking ways to help others.

This blog is my first effort to find meaning from Diabetes and the change it brings into my life. I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to "do" with it. My self image has changed. At first, it frightened me a great deal. Before my diagnosis, when I was still in the dark, it made me feel weak and vulnerable. The rapid weight loss, the unquenchable thirst, made we wonder if my life might be over. For the first time, death seemed to be knocking at my door.

My journey has just begun. I imagine that over time, it will continually transform the way I see the world. Already it makes me take less things for granted. Direction? I do not know what lies ahead.

But I know it has changed me. Forever more.

　

　

　

Little Things

I am beginning to realize how important little things can be. As we rush around from day to day, trying to cope with our jobs and our families, it's easy to forget what a big difference they can make.

In my line of work, I deal with many people. And sometimes, I just want to get through the day. When I start with a list of names on my schedule, it's easy to view them as items to be checked off. I keep counting "how many more" until lunch, or until I go home. And I know they're probably doing the same thing, counting minutes on their watch until they will be seen, or until their appointment is over.

I try to remind myself that most of them don't really want to be there. They come out of necessity, compelled by need -- seeking pain relief or following through with a treatment recommendation. I try to make their visit as brief and painless as possible.

But sometimes, what seems to matter most, is not the care provided, but that someone takes an interest in their lives. People need to feel important. They need to know that someone shares their enthusiasm for music or food or one of a million other little things that matter to them.

The other day, my wife made another great discovery. She found sugar-free cake mix and sugar-free icing! Now, some people might consider that a little thing. But it makes a big difference to me. As a Diabetic (in my third month since diagnosis) I'm still striving day to day to feel like a normal person.

Some situations are still awkward. (At a wedding reception, I could not help but be reminded af all the 'goodies' I should not eat, like cookies and cake.) We've been checking labels at the grocery store every week. I thought I might never eat cake again.

I know she loves me, because she took the time to find it, and bake me a cake. I thought about it all day. And when I got home that night, we had cake for dessert. It made me so happy.

"How we feel" makes all the difference in the world. It can transform a bad day into a good day. Or a bad experience into a good one. So the memory becomes no longer a defeat, but a triumph. And, over time, all the 'little things' can literally change a person's life. They stay with you.

More and more, now I ask people how they feel. Because if they feel bad, and there's anything I can do to change it, I will try. I know it's always a surprise when someone asks me, because I don't expect them to care. When they do, it changes my view of that person. It makes me feel like I have a friend.

We see my dad every Sunday. He's got a big yard with some big trees. And I hadn't thought about it much, until all the leaves were starting to come down. His yard was completely covered. And even though he manages the lawn with a riding mower, I suddenly realized that he might need some help. His buddy, a handyman, often helps, but hadn't been around.

I found myself saying, "Dad, I'll stop by after work, in case you need help." (I did this under the pretense of wanting to show off my latest gizmo, a combination blower-vacuum that mulches the leaves as you pick them up.)

Now I know he did not expect me to show. People make half-hearted offers all the time. But suddenly, I realized that I could not bear the thought of him tackling that entire yard by himself. The man has three grown sons. It just didn't seem right.

So I packed up my gear in the trunk the next morning, before work. When I got done, just before five, I headed straight to my dad's. Pulling into the drive, it was pretty clear that many leaves were gone. He must have been working on them all day. His truck was gone, and I thought he might not be home. I started changing clothes in the car. With two hours of daylight, I vowed to do what I could. Every little bit helps.

Then he came out the door. I could tell he was touched. He explained that his buddy came over and they already got most of the leaves. But he thanked me again and again. Why? Because I was the only son who offered to help. And it meant a lot to him. I was only there a few minutes. But I felt good about making the trip.

Little things really do matter. Try it, sometime.

Here We Go

The ritual is upon us. Leaves coming down in droves. Day upon day, hour upon hour. Raking, blowing, bagging -- you name it. Anyone with big trees must find a way to cope. Some fare better than others.

We've all seen it. One yard meticulously swept and cleared, the other untouched. It makes a difference. There are consequences. The problem does not go away. Sooner or later, you deal with it.

Rituals are not my favorite thing. I'd like to think we have more choice in life.

I used to think this way about mowing the lawn. It seemed like such a waste of time and effort. Back in the 70's it seemed like we had the perfect combination of rain and sunshine to make it grow. Every two or three days, it seemed, there we were, my brother and I, racing to mow the lawn before my dad got home from work. (We had chores, you see.)

I had this idea for an invention. Grass genetically designed to stop at a certain height. Thick and green, with all the attributes of a normal, healthy lawn -- but no maintenance. What a dream!

My approach to life often revisits this path. The search for simplicity. It's a never-ending quest.

In school, I tried to focus on the task at hand. Block out complications. Avoid distractions. (Believe me, there were plenty to be found.) It seemed like people all around me were running in circles, engaged in so many useless pursuits. They found trouble, all right. I kept asking myself, "Can't they see what's happening to them?"

I made choices all the time, in favor of more sleep, less grief. I wanted to streamline my life. Develop a pattern of doing things. Make my days predictable, with less to worry about. No surprises.

And it worked for the most part, especially in graduate school. It enabled me to survive on a huge college campus, get good grades, and walk away with my degree -- which was the whole purpose of going, in the first place.

But sooner or later, life gets complicated. People cannot be avoided. Problems must be faced.

So, I took my degree into the world, and tried to put it to good use. I tried to become a problem solver. Always looking for ways to fix things. (My dad did a lot of this when we were kids. Handy with tools, he tried to fix almost everything around the house.)

But eventually, I found (much to my regret) that some things could not be fixed. Some people could not be persuaded to give up bad habits. Broken gizmos could not always be patched with wire or glue. (To this day, my one universal solution to almost every mechanical failure still seems to be a paper clip.)

In recent years, every time my wife and I encountered any sort of health-related difficulty, we sought out home remedies. She had a fantastic paperback reference (Complete Guide to Symptoms, Illness & Surgery). These days we use it less often, in favor of searches on the internet.

We did the same thing with Diabetes. And I'm still seeking solutions. (Already a big fan of sugar-free Jello, yesterday we found sugar-free pudding. I'm so excited.)

Deep down inside, I know I can't "fix" my condition. It's a part of me, for life. But I'm still hoping to make it less complicated. (I've always believed the effort required to simplify anything is worth it.)

Someone told me the other day there's a device that not only checks blood pressure, but reads blood sugar as well. Is that possible? No sticking, no bleeding, no strips? That would be something. I need to look it up.

For right now, though, I must adhere to ritual. Daily checking of my blood. (At least it's getting easier. I used to poke more than once to get the right amount. Most days anymore, it only takes about a minute.)

I want to be responsible. Deal with it here and now. It's not my favorite thing -- but I know it must be done.

Here we go.

Fear Factor

One thing I've discovered since my diagnosis relates to "mystery food". It used to be that whenever friends or relatives would show up at some event with their latest offering, out of politeness I would try it. Same thing goes for people at work. Especially around holiday time. And I know it'll happen again this year.

But it won't be the same for me. It's already begun. Someone brought zucchini bread to work. Ordinarily, I love zucchini bread (depending on the recipe). My wife bakes it in miniature loaves. Golden brown. When sliced, it's just right for a bite-sized snack. Give me a slice topped with butter, and I'm in absolute heaven.

Now I'm wondering about this year. With home-made recipes there's no label to check the sugar content. My wife will probably try to alter hers somewhat, substituting Splenda, and making other slight changes, like whole-grain flour instead of white. But that's not gonna happen with everyone else.

So, the question is, "Should I risk it?" My first instinct (if I'm thinking straight and not drooling too bad) would be "Probably not". After all, there's no way to know how much sugar is in all the holiday treats that people love to make. (We go through this weekly at the grocery store, searching for "sugar-free" pies or those made "without added sugar".)

Don't get me wrong. My wife loves to cook and bake. She's made some wonderful pies this way and we've enjoyed them immensely. But I can't expect others to do the same. And it could easily get out of hand if I start throwing caution to the wind simply because I "don't wish to offend".

Hopefully, others will not take notice. (Gone are the days when every Aunt and Grandmother would stand by with a watchful eye to make sure you try their latest creation.) And I don't want to put a damper on things by reminding everyone of my "condition".

So now, I hesitate, weighing it out in my mind. With people you hardly know, it should be easy. And so I ask myself, "What would my wife say?" because she's got better willpower. I trust her completely. (Nine times out of ten, when she says, "It's not a good idea," you can bet she's probably right.)

I don't want to be careless or precipitate any kind of health crisis. I'm still a newbie at this whole "Diabetic thing" and this'll be my first round through the holidays. (Usually what we do is bring something "safe", that we've made at home with our own hands, to any family gathering -- to make sure we have something to eat. I guess that'll extend to sweets as well.)

I'm still trying to figure out why my blood sugar spikes some days more than others. I can't really afford the time for regular work outs, so it's kind of hit or miss. Weight is still holding. (Most of my clothes are loose-fitting.)

So I'm proceeding with caution. We've already decided to skip the whole "handing out candy" for Halloween routine. No sense in stocking the house with tons of sweets that neither one of us should be eating. (She's trying to lose weight.) We don't need that kind of temptation. It makes me feel bad in a way. As a kid, Halloween was always one of my favorites. I could never understand why people refused to participate. I remember one poor old woman on our street (this was in the 60's). She never had candy, but she'd stand at the door, dropping a penny into each of our bags. (I guess we'll turn out the lights and hide until it's over.)

Thanksgiving we'll have here, with our son. That'll be no problem. He's already discovered the snacks we keep around taste pretty much the same. And he loves his mom's cooking.

Christmas I'm a little worried about. More visiting. More relatives. More food than you can shake a stick at. (One year I came down with the flu real bad this time of year between Christmas and New Years. Couldn't keep down anything. Not even so much as a cracker. We made the rounds. I tried to smile. It was a miserable time.)

So, I'll try to be careful -- and polite. I'll try NOT to let the "Fear Factor" spoil what many consider to be their favorite time of year. I know it won't be easy.

But then, maybe that's part of being a Diabetic. It's not for wimps.

　

　

　

Would It Matter

When my doctor informed me that I had Type 2, he said that I'd probably had it "for a while" (maybe years) before it came to light. And sometimes I wonder if there was any way I could have known. How does anyone know, without symptoms? If someone had said to me, "Watch out, you may be diabetic!" -- would I have believed it?

Probably not. When your body works the way it's supposed to, for years and years, you don't expect it to just stop. Especially when you try to live in moderation. And I've never been excessive with food or drink.

Growing up, I learned that alcohol might be a problem. When you see a parent gradually transform over the years from a social drinker to an alcoholic, you might respond in several ways. My brothers ignored it completely, pretending they could not see it. One followed right in Dad's footsteps, getting picked up for DUI.

I took the opposite route, pretty much avoiding the stuff altogether. Too many people try to be social drinkers, only to find themselves slip along the way. I figured it was in my genes, and I wasn't going to risk it. So, I never took a liking to beer or whiskey or vodka. It meant choosing friends who did not drink. It also meant steering clear of bars. For me, that was not difficult. I'd seen too many people lose control in college. (Plus I never smoked.) That whole social scene never appealed to me.

Drugs in general had no appeal. I never wanted to "get high". We had kids in high school who smoked, and everyone knew it. They walked around in jean jackets most of the time, hanging out together, always reeking from the smell. We called them "burn-outs". They seemed to be under-achievers, never applying themselves, putting their heads down in class, trying to coast through the day. School did not seem to matter to them at all.

I could not really understand why my parents, and seemingly everyone they knew, used tobacco. We'd say, "Well, it was their generation. Everyone did it back then. They didn't know any better."

Really? People know better now (you might think) but they still do it anyway. I used to believe that my generation would be different. Maybe they'd make better choices. Not repeat mistakes of the past. Live smarter. Make the world a better place.

But then, as I watched all my schoolmates progress into adolescence and high school, it didn't happen that way. They gravitated toward bad behavior. Seeking thrills. Repeating the mistakes of their parents. Never asking themselves, "Is this a good idea? Won't this hurt me, in the long run? Do I really want to be addicted for the rest of my life?"

I guess they never thought about it. I've always been more contemplative. In some ways, this made me hesitant, weighing decisions more carefully, proceeding with caution. I would double check everything. Taking tests in school, most kids seemed to go through it once, and turn the paper in. I had more of a tendency to budget my time, trying to make sure that I not only completed the exam, but gave myself enough time to go back through every question and recheck all my answers.

Partly this was because early on, I had established a record of getting good marks. (My first set of straight A's came on a report card in first grade.) Once it began, I felt compelled to keep it going. I wanted to succeed. But it always required extra effort. I never had a photographic memory. It meant reading a chapter two or three times, taking books home every night and on weekends. It meant hours spent on homework. Fewer friends and less sleep. But it did enable me to graduate as valedictorian (we had four in our senior class).

The importance of that fades over time. (Especially when you get to college, and everyone you meet says, "Me too!")

So I've always tried to avoid what seemed "bad" for me. Moderation comes into play because, at some point, as an adult, you realize that many people smoke and drink. You cannot simply avoid them or social gatherings where they happen to be. So, once in a blue moon, I've sipped on cold beer. My wife and I often drink a small glass of wine with our dinner. Why? Because it turns it out, in moderation, it's considered good for a healthy heart.

So what else do people crave? Food! Once again, I've always strived to keep my weight within a certain range. So long as I was able to achieve this (and regularly brushed my teeth), a few sweets now and then seemed pretty harmless. (It's hard not to have a sweet tooth when you're raised on Ding dongs, Ho-ho's and Twinkies.) So I ate Snickers bars, Pop-tarts and drank Cokes pretty much whenever I felt like it, "for energy".

If someone had said, "Cut back. It might lead to trouble," I probably wouldn't have taken it too seriously. I would have never guessed that such "harmless behavior" might one day have consequences -- like Diabetes.

And so, here I am.

　

What I Remember

For some reason, as a kid I remember Diabetes as a rare thing. And a bit of a mystery. Some people were apparently born with it, and some developed it later in life. But why? Nobody knew. (Does anyone know now? We all talk about the genetic link, but that explanation seems almost too simple.)

My grandmother on Dad's side of the family was apparently a lifelong diabetic. She took insulin every day, and it was quite an ordeal. Injections given at certain times to coincide with meals. She had help from my grandfather. This was in the early 70's. I don't know how she tested her blood.

Dad never seemed too concerned about it "happening" to him. But of course he was born without it -- and probably figured he was "safe".

In Catholic elementary school, we had a girl in our class (first or second grade) who was given a special privilege by our teacher. While the rest of us had to get permission to leave the classroom and use a drinking fountain in the hallway, she was allowed to get a drink any time she wanted -- and she did. I've always wondered what condition she had to make her so thirsty. Could it have been Diabetes?

We had no diabetics on Mom's side of the family (as far as I know). But they must have been there, somewhere along the line. When she was diagnosed with Type 2, I'm not exactly sure. If it can be said that 50% of one's offspring are likely to contract it, that would true in our case (since my brother has it also, and that makes two out of four siblings).

For years, of course, as a caregiver, I dealt with people who listed Diabetes on their health history. I never gave it much thought, except to be sure we kept a ready sugar source in the office, for people to take if needed. (Only once in fourteen years did we have to give someone Coke to drink.)

I remember going into Gorants and seeing the sugar-free candy in its own special section of the store, for those few "unfortunates" who could not tolerate regular chocolate like the rest of us. I never really contemplated who they might be. But it was so small. "How awful for them," I thought. "Probably doesn't even taste right."

Never did I stop to consider that "sugar-free" might not necessarily mean "taste-free" or "pleasure-free". All I could think of at that time was the dry cocoa mix without sweetener that was sometimes used in baking. (Because I tried it once -- and it was bitter, let me tell you.)

But we never had the plethora of Diabetes related commercials back then, like we do now. No talk of 'Diabetes Care Club" when I was a kid. No exuberant white-hairs grinning happily about "alternative site testing". I don't recall anything about "Free Meters" or "Coding" either. (What does that mean, anyway?)

Since we heard so little about it, I tend to believe it was less common. But then, I don't recall as much talk about high cholesterol or erectile dysfunction, either. (And believe me, we used to watch a lot of TV. Three hours at least every night between supper and bedtime. But it was the whole family, together back then, in the same room. We only had three channels -- and we liked it.)

I also remember non-sugar type sweeteners, like Nutra-Sweet. For a while, it seemed to be in almost everything. (Whatever happened to that?)

There always seems to be at least one member of the household who makes statements like, "I can't eat anything but real sugar." In ours, it was the person who bought all the groceries (which just happened to be my mom!).

They used to say Kool-Aid was better for kids, because "You control the amount of sugar". In our house , whether we made Kool-Aid or Lemonade or anything involving powder added to water, it was always "the more sugar, the better".

I have happy memories of candy jars filled with M&M's, so you could pop them in your mouth, anytime day or night. (One candy I'd really love to see in sugar-free form, by the way.)

But now I'm reminiscing too much about the "good old days", when I could consume sugar with reckless abandon.

Hopefully, one day I'll remember something else, above all the rest: the moment I finally accepted my Diabetes as an inevitable part of my life's journey, and learned to live without regrets.

Guess I'm still working on that one.

Is That Normal?

A common question -- directed at caregivers anytime people experience symptoms they cannot explain or do not expect. Most often it's because they think the body should heal faster than it does.

The answer, of course, depends on many things. Seldom is there a universal norm that applies to every person. "Normal" often varies, depending on age, sex, medical history, and genetic background. Even abnormal responses may be considered normal under certain circumstances.

The better question would be, "Is this normal for me?" The answer might even be, "Yes, for now."

And so I have tried to apply this to my Type 2 Diabetes.

When my vision blurred, losing the ability to read any kind of small print (even wearing prescription eyeglasses) it threw me for a loop. Mainly because I made this discovery on a Monday morning at work, and good eyesight is essential to my profession. (The second panic attack came three days later with my first glucometer reading.)

Our newly acquired physician (we only decided to get one with the advent of my condition) did not seem too alarmed. But then he'd probably heard it many times before. Unfortunately, I had not. He did not tell me how long it would last, only saying that it would "probably" come back once my blood sugar was under control.

So, it was "normal" for that to happen, because the same symptom afflicts many people with the onset of Type 2.

I understand that what's normal for me now may not be the same in five or ten years. And I don't plan to live in fear, constantly anticipating what might happen, or even what will probably happen. Since it is not possible to know exactly how long I will live, there is really no guarantee that any of it will "happen" at all.

I'm sure it's probably normal to crave certain foods from time to time, especially when told I'm not supposed to have them. So far it hasn't been too bad. With all the substitutes and alternatives from the grocery store, I really don't feel deprived. I keep telling myself it's not like going off some fad diet (where the worst thing that could happen might be weight gain).

I try to compare my daily blood sugar readings to various guidelines from the internet, glucometer instructions, etc. And even though my numbers still do not fit within "ideal", I'm wondering if it might still be normal for me -- at this stage of the game.

Take blood pressure, for example. Many, many people have hypertension. Even with medication, their numbers often run high. And yet, we say it is "controlled" if they stay within a certain range.

It does not seem unreasonable that my numbers would drop gradually, over time, going from 360 (at diagnosis) to @240, then 210, then 180, then 150. (I'd like them to be lower, but it is what it is. And sometimes they fluctuate, going up or down from one day to the next, something I still can't quite figure out.)

And so I imagine it will continue to drop, until the readings level off and stabilize. Right now, I'm guessing that could take at least another month, since I still have one more refill on my prescription, and that's also about the length of time I was told to wait before getting new eyeglasses.

It seems that "normal" may be an evolving state for me, depending on where I happen to be.

Only time will tell.

For Life

So now I'm getting this picture that Diabetes will be with me for the rest of my days. It turns out my brother has been dealing with this longer than I thought. At a family birthday party he just told me it has been twenty years. And he's not on one medication, but three. That's more than I wanted to hear.

I can understand why my mother never spoke about it. She had other health problems and did not want to burden anyone. And I guess I appreciate that. Some people open up to total strangers the minute they meet, going on and on about their conditions and medications and surgeries. I've always been more private.

For me, it's only been two months. So I have a lot to learn. My general approach to this whole thing so far has been to treat it as "no big deal". Take what steps are necessary and move on. (Secretly I keep hoping it will correct itself and go away.)

My self image has changed, but I still want to believe I'm the same person. And I don't like labels. So I don't really want others to relate to me as a "Diabetic".

My sister (the nurse) asked, "How do you feel?" Now I know exactly what she meant. She wanted to know: How's the sugar thing? How's your eating? How's your readings? And I told her everything was fine. My vision gets better every day.

But how do I "feel" about my Type 2 diagnosis? Well, it helps me relate more to my grandmother (even though she was Type 1 and on my dad's side of the family) and my mother (Type 2, I'm pretty sure). They had to deal with this whole thing much longer. I understand their daily routine: testing their blood, taking their medication -- and watching their diet.

I still want to simplify as much as possible. That's why I only check my blood sugar once a day. I'm not ready (my favorite excuse) to deal with all the nuances. I don't want to think about fasting vs nonfasting, before meal vs after meal. I keep thinking, blood sugar must go up and down all the time, and most people probably never feel the difference. I don't want to go nuts. I just want to be somewhat normal.

A journey takes place step by step. I'm not trying to learn everything all at once. And I don't really want to become an expert. I'm just trying to come to grips with what it all means.

My weight, for example. Before this happened, I had always tried to keep it within a range of about 180 to 200 pounds (sometimes higher, sometimes lower) but was never too strict with myself. For years, like most people, I maintained a constant "goal" of wanting to lose ten or twenty, thinking it would be just enough to make me look younger.

Then it happened without trying, and people started to notice. But it was more negative than positive. Not "Hey, you must be working out," but "You don't look the same," like they suspected something might be wrong. So now I'm about twenty pounds lighter than I used to be. Even had to buy smaller jeans and shorts, to keep them from falling off. And since I eat way less sugar than ever before, I'm wondering: Is this the way it's going to be?

We used to do things like picking up donuts for breakfast, stopping spur of the moment for ice cream, or grabbing pastry from the dessert section of the bakery. No more. None of these seem to have as much appeal, when you consider the possibility of spiking my blood sugar. Neither of us is comfortable with saying, "Oh, the hell with it."

My wife wants me to live longer, and so do I. Our mutual goal at this point is at least another twenty years. Neither one of us can bear the thought of living alone. (I'm hoping that financial security will come about through several projects, to free me up from the daily 9 to 5.)

Diabetes for Life? So be it. I'm planning to stay healthy -- for both of us.

No matter what it takes.