An online brew of Coffee and Conversation about the Highs, Lows of living with diabetes... and focusing on coffee and beer.
That time has finally arrived.
As usual this time every year, it's time for me to unplug and unconnect. Typical regular life duties are being put on hold for a week as we head up to northern Michigan for the annual camping trip. No work meetings. No tweeting. No D-Blogging. Few phone calls. As little stress as possible. There, we'll spend a week in our tents and hanging out in the company of a dozen close college friends over campfires and good times. While it's tent camping, we are within the comforts of a state park. Once our workweek finished on Friday, we headed home to get all packed up before hitting the road on Sunday morning. Our drive is about three hours longer than pretty much everyone else going, as they all live in the Southeast Michigan area where we're from. But now that we reside in Central Indiana, this means an 8-hour drive north along the Mitten State's western coastline with periodic pit stops for us and the dog. The Shadow Cat will gladly run the house, with occasional check-ins by neighbors and friends. Of course, diabetes always goes where I do and like always I hope that it decides to cooperate for this year's camping adventure in Interlochen, just 20 minutes or so south of Traverse City, Michigan.
We refer to this summer break as a time when we've "Gone Fishin." A time when we've locked up to do something we love. Basically, this mantra recognizes an outstanding marketing campaign created by the state of Michigan's tourism bureau a few years back, to bring outsiders into the state to visit. There's a number of these great ads on video and radio, all with Michigan-native and actor Tim Allen speaking the Robert Frost-like words that create incredible images. I invite you to listen to my favorite, posted below, that makes me all warm inside and look forward to my annual camping trip even more.
There's also this great one called "Play Time," which captures so much of what this trip does for our souls - a time we long for most.
Oh, I so welcome this time in my home state of Michigan... Full of lovely landscapes, miles of majestic scenery, wonderous waterfront communities, and images of natural perfection that just can't be replicated. If you haven't been, I encourage you to visit. Particularly in the fall, when you can watch the colors change as the seasons do.
With that, may your week be rich with scenery as beautiful as the camping scenes I'm about to embrace. I'll look forward to reconnecting later in the month, but in the meantime I hope the D-Lives treat you kindly, the BG levels stay level, and life in general stays pleasant.
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.
Are those CGM farm animals alerting farmer to a Low?!
I found myself singing this song recently, while sitting at my kitchen table: "Lantus in the leg. Lantus in the leg. Hi-ho, the derry-o, a shot of Lantus in the leg." Go on. Sing along. You know you want to. Now, I can't tell you What the Fructose a dell or derry-o even are, sine I'm not a farmer and I didn't care enough to Google it. But I do know it's a catchy tune. So that's all there is to it. (Humming to myself... Snapping my fingers to the beat.) Now, just imagine what it'd be like if Old McDonald Had a D-Farm...
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