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.