An online brew of Coffee and Conversation about the Highs, Lows of living with diabetes... and focusing on coffee and beer.
Navigating The Waters
Sky is dark. Clouds hover overhead, trapping the light behind a veil of darkness, a haze that stops you from seeing what's ahead. A bright spot, a break in the clouds, can be seen ahead on the horizon where the sun shines through. That's the destination.
But it's not an easy path. This journey means you must ride the river. A dangerous river. Toward that place off in the distance, a spot you hope isn't a mirage as you desperately try to reach it.
This river is riddled with rough patches. A rocky, wave-splashing-against-the-shore type of river. Rocks sit in strategic spots along the river, aimed solely at catching you offguard and pitching you helplessly into the waters.
The only salvation is a small little raft - a Log - that shows how you're doing in navigating these trecherous waters. A safety vest - a lifeline connected to the body - provides some comfort and helps boost you or keep you tied down when needed. Every single moment it keeps you alive, even as you fearfully face those ever-present dangers that mean quickly drowning before there's a chance to recover. Clinging to the small raft, we do all we can just not to fall off and sink to the bottom of the dark waters. Paddling away, with whatever we have to paddle with - oars, branches, hands, feet, arms.
Out of nowhere and without warning, a High wave crashes into me, sending me up into the bleak sky. Here, I know I won't drown. But the drop back down is inevitable, and that's a dangerous crash. Plummeting downward. Sinking into the dark abyss, water rushes over me. I sink lower. Finally, I manage to pull myself back up to the surface. Breath for air. Tread water, until I can again pull myself back onto the raft and continue on. Soaked, shaking, again clutching to the sides and regaining composure.
The ride resumes. The raft offers comfort. Even as I can see more waves ahead, and realize the future isn't any different. No matter how much I crave peace and easy river-riding, I can't have it. Must battles the waves. But carry on hope that someday I'll reach that brighter, non-wavy place.
Navigating through the Waters of Diabetes.
Making every moment count. Riding the waves, but seeing the scenery along the shores even as it passes by.
No time for my chatty-typing fingers to engage you today. I'm off to the dentist's office for a dreaded appointment. Thanks to the wonders of D-enduced periodontal disease, this should be a visit full of poking, prodding, pain, and likely some bleeding. Great times. Not looking forward to this visit. Or the next more painful one. I see soup in my future. Maybe Easy Mac. But, I digress. That's all fodder for a future blog post. In the meantime today, talk amongst yourselves. Flap those online gums in the blogging world. And remember to brush and floss.
Well, did anyone think this is what 2020 would look like? Global pandemic and worldwide public health emergency, everything shutting down and a potential economic collapse on the horizon. Holy fuck. ' A "Pandemic (in Quarantine) Playlist on my Spotify is now a thing, and my own remote worklife now in its 8th year has taken on an eeerie new spin. As are my watchlists full of dystopian and post-apocalyptic TVs and movies for streaming in these strange times. All of my work travel and conferences for the spring have been nixed, and we're all watching closely to see what the impact may be for summer events. What about my "underlying health condition" that is type 1 diabetes? So far, so good. No signs of anything astray. As I've shared over on DiabetesMine, I have been using the Tandem t:slim X2 device since mid-October 2019. That followed three-and-a-half years of Multiple Daily Dosing with pens and Afrezza inhaled insulin insulin. I starte
Another year with type 1 has come and gone. For those keeping count, I'm now at 33 years with T1D. And for those who've been following along over the years, you may recall that I self-designated March 10 the date a number of years ago, because I really don't know the exact date other than it was Spring 1984 when my diagnosis came along. So, here we are one again. Woo, freakin', Hoo. I'm not one to really "celebrate" having this chronic condition for so long, but rather I more mark it with a head-nod and drink to the fact that I've managed to survive another year without falling flat on my face and staying put in the ground thanks to D. Sure, there's the whole hopeful mantra of You Can Do This these days, but the fears still exist for me that my time could be closer than I'd like, due to this disease. Not yet, Hoskins. Did I mark this diaversary in any special ways? Not really. Though, I did drink some orange juice. No, not be