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?