Here it is. The midnight hour once again. I sit sipping tea, drowning in St. Elmo's theme music on the iPod, resting in the green recliner with feet up and watching the cat curl up in a ball to rest near by feet.

Anyhow. Good time for self-reflection, late night reading. And, of course, blogging. So I've put down my Lee Strobel "The Case for Faith" briefly to flip through our just-released edition of Indiana Lawyer, a plethora of diabetes magazines picked up at the endo's office today (plus a copy of Time swiped in compensation for the 70-minute wait...).

But. Here's the inspiring part. An article in Diabetes Vital describes how "Ironman" Andy Holder was diagnosed with Type 1 at age 36, and learned to control his sugars while undergoing the "most extreme mental and physical challenge" he could think of - a competition entailing a 2.4 mile swim, 112-mile bike, and 26.2 mile run. Why? Well, he didn't want his kids to not know him in those healthy years. He states in the article: "The first night that I had to give myself an insulin injection, it hit me that my son(s) was going to grow up always knowing me as 'diseased.' I wanted my sons to see me as something more." The article ends by saying that he's proof people with diabetes can live without limits and strive for the highest aspirations.

That all hits home. Complications are a scary topic by themselves, but that added psychological impact makes us all think about tighter control and managing as best we can for today - and tomorrow. It's not just about us. Hopefully, those days when we thought like that don't come back to haunt us too much down the road.

On that note, I hope to someday: "See a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vics. His hair will be perfect.... A-ooooo, Werewolves of London. A-oooo." Sorry. This isn't a reaction blog, I promise. Just maybe time for new iPod song....


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