My Diabetes Hero

Today's Diabetes Blog Week prompt:  Let’s end our week on a high note and blog about our “Diabetes Hero”.  It can be anyone you’d like to recognize or admire, someone you know personally or not, someone with diabetes or maybe a Type 3.  It might be a fabulous endo or CDE.  It could be a d-celebrity or role-model.  It could be another DOC member.  It’s up to you – who is your Diabetes Hero??


Susan Carver was the only person I knew who had type 1 diabetes when I was diagnosed at age 26. She was a single mom of two who played the organ at our church.  She had had diabetes since she was two and didn't know life without this dreaded chronic disease.  She was in her forties, but diabetic-wise, she was much older.  She had already had one kidney transplant and the rest of her body seemed zapped of color, energy, but not hope.  Her husband had left her to live in California, and I don't actually know if they were divorced, but even if they weren't, Susan was a single mom. Her children were smart, articulate, and way too grown up for their teenage years.


Soon after my diagnosis Susan let me know, in a subtle yet powerful way, that I now belonged to her club and I had what it took to deal with my new membership.  The twinkle in her eye always let me know that there was more to Susan than met my eyes.  Her small stature and quiet ways were a facade for the little rebel who lived inside.  She would talk about her illness only when I asked and promised me that we would supply each other with a box of Heath bars in the hereafter.  One day I noticed that one of Susan's index fingers was missing the top digit.  She told me that she had been holding a car fan belt for her husband when he mistakenly turned the car on and off went the fan belt and part of her finger.  It is only now that I realize how long that must have taken her to heal physically and emotionally from that injury.  And she was the organist in our church!  She always let me know that my diabetes path was NOT the same as hers because mine included a later diagnosis and always improving health care and technology.  She knew as we talked that I worried about her future as well as my own and wanted to reassure me.


As Susan's health declined even more after her second kidney transplant I watched as her now grown-up children acted even more grown-up than they had been when they were young and took care of her until the end of her life.  Susan was a grandmother at that point, and thought she might never be one before she passed away, but she had not been denied that joy.  She continued to smile and joke about her physical shortcomings to me and renewed the promise of a box of Heath bars waiting for me when we met again in heaven, and she said that would be ages away.  Yes, Susan is a Diabetes Hero.

What Life With Diabetes Looks Like

Last day of Diabetes Blog Week:  Back for the third year, let’s show everyone what life with diabetes looks like!  With a nod to the Diabetes 365 project, let’s grab our cameras again and share some more d-related pictures.  Post as many or as few as you’d like.  Feel free to blog your thoughts on or explanations of your pictures, or leave out the written words and let the pictures speak for themselves.

 Three hours of slow thinking, slow activities, slow motion - the gifts of low blood sugar

 Here is a 6 hour perspective - the "W" is for how I felt (wasted)

 The previous 12 hours - showing what might be the reason for the 3 hour lows

And then a 24 hour view to remind me that the roller coaster is not a ride I can get off of. The online game among diabetes bloggers right now is to try and find pictures in the CGM graphs.  I haven't been able to do that very well yet.  I wasn't good at the cloud pictures game as a kid either.  What pictures can you see in my CGM graphs? (The break in the graph is the three hour time period when I put in a new CGM site and it has to calibrate.)

 A CGM site from a month ago - the tape does as much damage as the site.

Can you see the small wounds on the ends and sides of my fingers from the finger sticks?  When I was pregnant with Abbey and checked my BG 10-12 times a day (before CGM days) I could just push on my fingers and they would bleed.  It was more handy that way.  :)

One of the reasons my purse is so heavy all the time - just the diabetes section complete with dinosaur and Curious George fruit snacks.


I tried to find a picture of a horrible monster on Google to put as my last photo here to represent the Diabetes Monster, but there just wasn't one horrid enough.  It would have to have pinchers and needles for hands and legs, an energy-sucking mouth, slimy skin of oozing puss, filled with infection, and no heart at all, just a protruding razor that cuts away a slice of life at a time.  I think you get the picture.

More You Should Know About Diabetes

Today's Diabetes Blog Week Prompt:  Let’s borrow a topic from a #dsma chat held last September.  The tweet asked “What is one thing you would tell someone that doesn’t have diabetes about living with diabetes?”.  Let’s do a little advocating and post what we wish people knew about diabetes.  Have more than one thing you wish people knew?  Go ahead and tell us everything.


I wrote on this topic a couple of years ago (you can read that here), so I should feel like I have flushed out all of my soap box points, but there is always room for more understanding when it comes to a chronic disease that millions of people live with every day.  So for today I want to highlight those who aren't always noticed for their bravery.  For every PWD there are dozens of PWLPWD behind the scenes.


There are PWD (People With Diabetes) and then there are PWLPWD (People Who Love People With Diabetes).  There isn't enough praise and understanding offered to this group of folks.  Even though they aren't the ones who must endure constant blood testing, injections or pump sites, high and low blood sugars, CGM alarms, complications, and all the numerous punches this diabetes monster dishes out, they feel the effects of diabetes in emotional and very personal ways.  And in some ways, the indirect line of fire from diabetes is pretty harrowing.

My husband might not remember our life together without diabetes but I do.  We had seven years of diabetes-free marital bliss before it all hit the fan.  Now he patiently gets orange juice in the middle of the night, wakes me when I don't hear the CGM alarm, cheers for any small diabetes conquering action I advertise, makes we laugh when we have to suspend yet another activity because my blood sugar is not cooperating, and silently worries about what this disease has and will rob from him, from us, from our family.

No pump on that hip, only a sweet baby Ben - the carefree days before diabetes.  (Ahhh . . . 80s fashions!)


The people who support, love, and care for PWD are the unsung heroes.  They take on this disease when they don't have to.  They are the moms and dads who stay awake all night watching their little one who is a newly diagnosed PWD, afraid to go to sleep because a blood sugar low isn't something a two-year-old can articulate and deal with.  They are the children who know how to dial 911 as toddlers just in case their dad with diabetes is incoherent on the floor.  Or they are the older children who know how to give a glucagon injection if their mom is unresponsive and in need of a major sugar intervention.  My hope is that others will reach out to the caregivers and recognize them once in awhile.  Give them a pat on the back or a listening ear, not in the way that you feel sorry for them, but in the way that you acknowledge their sacrifices and their part in helping life be "normal" for the PWD in their life.

My Fantasy Diabetes Device

Today's Diabetes Blog Week prompt:  Today let’s tackle an idea inspired by Bennet of Your Diabetes May Vary.  Tell us what your Fantasy Diabetes Device would be?  Think of your dream blood glucose checker, delivery system for insulin or other meds, magic carb counter, etc etc etc.  The sky is the limit – what would you love to see?


Well, duh!  A cure, plain and simple.  And not the kind I have to get with a dual kidney/pancreas transplant where someone has to die to give me those necessary organs and I have to take anti-rejection medication for the rest of my life.  I want this cure in the form of a trip to Hawaii where I get to lie on the beach and have the cure "medication" delivered to me through a series of fruity, tropical smoothies and daily massages. Oh, I guess I forgot the technology part.  Well, that could be a fancy alarm system that would let me know when I need another vital massage or pancreas curing smoothie.  Yep, that's what I call a fantasy.

One of Many

Today's Diabetes Blog Week Prompt:  Yesterday we gave ourselves and our loved ones a big pat on the back for one thing we are great at.  Today let’s look at the flip-side.  We probably all have one thing we could try to do better.  Why not make today the day we start working on it.  No judgments, no scolding, just sharing one small thing we can improve so the DOC can cheer us on!


There are many things I could try to do better when it comes to taking care of my chronic illness, so I won't mention the custard filled croissants at Carrefour bakery that are my weakness, or the many times I wake up to my Dexcom low blood sugar alarm during the night, look at the number, and tell myself that it isn't all that low (or "that can't be right"), because I really don't want to go all the way downstairs to confirm the BG with my meter and drink some orange juice.  I will pick just one of the many areas of improvement and that is regular physical activity.


I really want to be better at having a daily working out.  I am ashamed to say that I have allowed all the legitimate diabetic "excuses" to keep me from moving my body every day in some way.  Six years ago I was working out for an hour or more six days a week.  I had lost 40 pounds by dieting but mostly from consistent physical activity.  I wasn't what you would call athletic by any stretch of the imagination, but I could walk up my stairs without breathing heavily, I could get up from a sitting position without exertion, and I even participated in a 5K run/walk. I could play with Abbey and my grandson on the floor to without feeling like a stiff grandma.  But things have changed dramatically since then.  Moving to the Middle East in 2008 threw a wrench into my workout norms as well even though I have sporadically used the compound gym, exercise DVDs, and gone to yoga.


I think I can pinpoint the biggest change to May of 2009 when Abbey and I got salmonella and landed in the hospital for a week.  My body just hasn't been the same since.  "They" say that diabetes complicates every illness, especially as one ages, but I found this especially true after getting salmonella.  Then there was the time I fell on the marble stairs in our villa and cracked a rib.  And speaking of falling, there are the numerous times I have twisted my ankles, broken toes, and pulled muscles.  I'm not graceful at all and my injury list proves it.  I've had carpal tunnel, frozen shoulder, trigger fingers, and tennis elbow; all ailments you would expect to see on a very athletic person, but alas, diabetics are prone to joint issues too.  Then I developed plantar fasciitis in my feet and now have pain in my feet every minute of the day.  And the pounds have come back with new friends to add to my general flab.


So moving my body regularly is what I most need to challenge myself to do.  I have made a lot of what I call "false starts" to this new goal, but then I always have some other physical issue come up:  a sinus infection, the flu, swollen feet and ankles, numerous low blood sugars, a chronic cough, etc.  Yeah, the excuse list is out the door, but somehow I have to ignore that list and push through the exercise anyway.  A nagging, somewhat whiny voice inside my head tells me that I should just accept the "new normal" of limited expectations, but another voice, the stubborn one, doesn't want to give in to that.  I want to be fit and feel alive again, instead of just existing with low expectations because I have diabetes.  I might not impress anyone else but I want to impress myself with what my body can do.  Here's to new normal of daily physical activity that contributes to a new and improved Dianna!

One Great Thing

Tuesday, May 15 prompt for Diabetes Blog Week:

Living with diabetes (or caring for someone who lives with it) sure does take a lot of work, and it’s easy to be hard on ourselves if we aren’t “perfect”.  But today it’s time to give ourselves some much deserved credit.  Tell us about just one diabetes thing you (or your loved one) does spectacularly!  Fasting blood sugar checks, oral meds sorted and ready, something always on hand to treat a low, or anything that you do for diabetes.  Nothing is too big or too small to celebrate doing well! 


Well, it is difficult for me to say I do anything well when it comes to diabetes.  It seems that I am always falling short, and as the years go by and numbers aren't as easily managed, it is discouraging to try and find one thing I am succeeding at with this monster disease.  So I am taking a cue from Abby over at Six Until Me and tapping into my unlimited sarcasm skills.


I am great at collecting a year's worth of insulin, pump supplies, back-up insulin pens, back-up syringes, a back-up pump (yes, I have two), meter supplies, back-up meters, CGM supplies, other various medications for diabetes-related ailments, ice packs, and a giant cooler and fitting all of this into two suitcases and a carry-on with all of my clothes, books, toiletries, and shoes, lots of shoes, for our annual trek to the Middle East where we live for nine months out of the year.  Now it would be too easy if they actually had the same kind of insulin and pump supplies in Qatar and I could just go to my local chemist at the souq and get my few needed bottles of Humalog.  I love the challenge of moving heaven and earth onto an airplane and praying my way through at least six different airport security checks on our 28 hour flight (three connections).  I also love it when we travel overseas to some of the less modern countries where they think I am carrying bomb materials around my waist, take me away from my family, and then insist on seeing my site to prove I am telling the truth about my insulin pump.  I do all of this rather well, and do it with grace and patience (Ha!), so I need a high five from all of my readers out there.

And this is only what is left after 8 plus months of being here.

Oh, and I'm really good at keeping my cool when $100s of dollars get wasted when my supply of insulin expires.  Darn those pharmacists who didn't give me bottles with longer expiration dates.  Grrrrrrrrr!

Diabetes Blog Week 2012

I am about to put on my diabetes writing hat . . . . ready?. . . . . okay.  This is my kick-off post for Diabetes Blog Week 2012 so get ready for some SWEET writing.  Today's prompt:

Monday, May 14, 2012:  It seems the most popular thing about Diabetes Blog Week is that it helps us find blogs we weren’t reading yet and connect with some new blog friends.  With that in mind, let’s kick off Diabetes Blog Week by making some new connections.  Think about the d-blogs you read that you think we may not know about and introduce us to one that you love!!  Let’s all find a new friend today!


I only read two diabetes Blogs regularly because that is really all I have time and emotional energy for.  I really get invested in the blogs I read and feel connected to the writers even though they don't know me from Adam.  


The first Diabetes Blog I ever came across was Kerri Sparling's and she opened my eyes and my heart to so many ways of discussing this disease that I share with her and millions of others.  Her humorous writing style always touches me and I seem to be able to laugh a little more easily at myself and others when it comes to dealing with diabetes.  Kerri is a new mom and a tireless advocate for PWD (People With Diabetes) everywhere.  As I already stated, I get emotionally invested in the lives of these bloggers, so when Kerri announced a few months ago that she was going to be attending a diabetes conference in Dubai, I seriously thought it was my duty to go too and meet up with her since I live in Qatar (a one hour plane ride away from Dubai).  I wanted to be her own personal Middle Eastern Welcome Wagon and meet her at the airport, even though I had never even been to Dubai at that time.  I quickly woke up out of my silly hero worship fantasy and supported her with comments and suggestions on her blog instead.  So check out Kerri's blog.  It means a lot to me and really hits the spot when I am Diabetically Desperate.


Another blog that I regularly read is written by Kim Vlasnik.  Her honesty and energy about dealing with a chronic disease are refreshing and uplifting.  She even creates cartoons about this monster disease and shares them with anyone who wants to use them in any form.  Both Kim and Kerri write a lot about diabetes technology and innovations and that interests me.  They also seem to be very "hooked-up" with the diabetes companies that make these lovely devices that we wear, so they seem to be great voices for the powers-that-be to be listening to.  I really appreciate both of these online friends and suggest you check them out.

Doha Driving

I'm not sure but I might have noticed a sure sign of cultural assimilation today in Brett, and by "cultural assimilation" I mean not in a good way in this case.  We were driving to VCUQatar in Education City today to drop Brett off at work.  There is a section of road there, parallel to the LAS Building, that has a large median in the middle and two lanes for each direction on each side of the median.  As we were headed toward VCUQ I noticed a Land Cruiser coming toward us in the inside lane of the one way road.  I said, "Oh no!"  Even though Brett was paying attention and looking right at the other car, his only reply was, "What's the matter?"  When I pointed out that there was a car passing us on the left going the wrong direction, he just said, "Oh, yeah, they do that all the time."  There was no surprise, no shock in his voice at all.  I was kind of panicked for the other drivers behind us and wondered what this guy was going to do when he got to the roundabout we had just come through.

The LAS Building - the median is this wide section in the foreground with the sand and the grasses

Now this cultural assimilation of Brett's is not complete, yet, because he hasn't driven the wrong way on a one way road, but I thought it was pretty telling that he wasn't phased at all by the Qatari driving next to us going the wrong way.  Maybe this is a sign that we have been in this country too long.  Maybe it is a positive coping mechanism on Brett's part that I just haven't acquired yet.  He was feeling very calm while I was definitely worried about the situation.  It quickly became laughable and I was able to shrug my shoulders in resignation. I guess I have come a long way, but I might worry if I join Brett's complacency club and not even notice the traffic travesties in Qatar.

Even as I was laughing to myself about the unpredictable craziness of driving here though we passed a car with two little, pudgy baby hands on the steering wheel.  I did a triple take and saw the sweetest little curly headed, dark eyed baby standing in her daddy's lap, looking like she was in complete control of the car.  Now maybe the dad's hands were on the bottom part of the steering wheel where I couldn't see, but oh, my head wanted to explode with righteous rage.  Not only was this little sweetheart NOT in a car seat, she was on the driver's lap pretending to drive.

Right after we moved to Qatar I was with my friend Cydney while she was driving.  We were at a standstill in traffic and noticed that the children in the car next to us were flailing all over the two back seats and hanging out the windows while the adults were oblivious in the front seat.  Cydney, in her perfectly tactful way, caught the eyes of one of the children hanging out the window (they were all staring at the two blonde ladies next to them so it was easy to do) and lifted her shoulder strap of the seat belt and hand up in question.  The child quickly pushed her whole hand facing toward us across her body in dismissal and then we saw a maid pull her inside the car.  Arabic, Indian, African, and Filipino children are not restrained in the car in the Middle East for the most part.  I guess it is not my place to judge the habits of other cultures, but why is there so much disregard for traffic laws and safety in the Middle East?  I hope I don't have to stay here until I figure out the answer to this question.  Until then I will keep chuckling at the flagrant law breakers, keep my eyes on the road, plan ahead for being cut-off, and wave at, but pray for, the staring children as they bounce down the street in unrestrained revelry.

Seussical the Musical

The American School of Doha is an amazing place for children to experience the arts.  Abbey just finished participating in the 5th Grade musical.  They did Seussical this year and it was fantastic.  Geoff Heney, one of the assistant principals at the elementary, directed the play, and I have to say he is brilliant at EVERYTHING, especially helping children feel great about themselves.  He really outdid himself with this production and inspiring these kids to tap into their best work.  The music was impressive as well as the costumes and sets.  I don't know who was in charge of the costumes, but whoever it was got the "Who People" perfectly.  The mayor's wife had to be my favorite. The student who played the part of the Sour Kangaroo had a remarkable voice and belted our her parts like a professional.  I kept having to remind myself that these were 5th graders.

Mr. Heney

Because my sweet Abigail is not fond of being up in front of audiences, she decided not to try out for any of the cast parts.  She really enjoyed being in the chorus and supporting the play with her voice, and even with her dread of the spotlight, she wasn't that disappointed when she got to be on the front row during the production and hold a candle during the "Solla Sollew" number (I think she is a closet performer like her mom).

 Morgan and Abbey

Brynn and Abbey

Another school year is almost at an end and it seems to have flown by.  As I watched my tall, beautiful daughter perform I had to marvel at how much she has grown since we came to Qatar in 2008.  She was in 2nd grade then and so shy her teacher Miss Verhoye was worried about her.  But she blossomed with the help of so many professionals at ASD, especially Miss V, and even Mr. Heney.  Along with growing in height Abbey has grown in her cultural awareness here.  Each summer when we go back to Utah she always comments about how much "sameness" there is there.  She has commented once or twice about how before coming to Qatar our religion was the only faith she was aware of.  Now she knows something about Muslims, Hindus, Catholics, Christians, and more.  She even knows a little Arabic.  Our Abigail has always been tuned in to people and their feelings and now she is tuned in to the world in a way she never would have been if we hadn't come to the Middle East.  ASD has been a big part of that journey of awareness.  Oh, the Thinks you can Think!

Al Wakra: Qatar's Dog Beach

The last "cooler" spring days are already gone here in Qatar and we are reaching temperatures in the 100s already.  Luckily, we spent the last few Saturdays at the beach, and now I realize that those beach visits are over for the season.  The beach in the Doha summer is just miserable.  I guess there are people who get up before dawn and get down there before the sun rays melt the sand into lava, but even then, stepping into the Gulf is dunking your body into a salty sauna with the added bonus of seaweed.

 There's a dog in there somewhere - see the periscope tail?

Al Wakra Beach is known as the dog beach here in Qatar.  I guess all those people who do not like dogs invading their sandy picnics know that Al Wakra is not the place for them.  As a result, the beach is filled with dog lovers.  Our little Dixie gets lots of attention wherever she goes and especially at the beach.  People watch her swim and are in disbelief that she is brave enough to jump in and follow us out to a sand bar.  Her long white hair looks like angel wings as she paddles through the water and she is so proud of herself when she gets to dry land again.

 Dixie was trying to rub off the salt with the sand.

 It didn't work so well!

The attention Dixie gets is sometimes unnerving.  I have had Qatari men drive their SUVs filled with children (sometimes hanging on the outside too) over to my chair just to look at our little white fluff ball.  It only gets uncomfortable when I try to say hello and they just stare at us like zoo visitors.  It is also uncomfortable when the children get out and I take the dog over to them.  They run away screaming.  For some reason, Arabic children seem fascinated, and at the same time, terrified of dogs.  I offer to help them pet Dixie or let her lick their little hands, but all they do is smile and then run away screaming.  Sometimes they will try and poke a stick at her or they get a few yards away and bark at her.  They are scared but also thrilled to be so close to a dog - A DOG!  I have heard that dogs are unclean in the eyes of some Muslims and they won't touch canines, so maybe that is the reason for the scared apprehension, but this is just so strange.

A few weeks ago we saw yet another car get stuck in the sandy water as the tide came in.  Well, in this case, the man driving the little truck had just loaded up his children (yes, they were some of the screaming ones I described above) and he drove through the water to wash off his tires, or something dumb like that.  Well of course he got stuck.  We watched him struggle for awhile, but then Brett walked over to offer moral support.  Because of his neck and back problems, Brett couldn't offer any physical help, so he decided to do the next best thing and go get the help that was needed.  He recruited two different sets of men.  Some Pakistani gentlemen were just driving by when all this was happening, so they got out to assist.  It looked pretty comical to see these men, in their traditional "pajamas", at the bumper of this truck pushing with all their might.  Then Brett went over to a group of some very jovial men from Sri Lanka and asked for their help.

The result was impressive!  They all picked up the back of the truck and lifted it out of the wet sand like it was a row boat.  The car owner quickly drove out of his predicament while all the men were giving high fives to Brett.  Now that is something I won't forget.  Even better was when the men from Sri Lanka were walking back to their spot on the beach, they walked right in front of me and Abbey.  Their wide smiles showed off how proud they were to have helped an Arabic man get out of a tight spot.  I couldn't understand their words, but their joy was obvious, especially when one of the shirtless men did a series of cartwheels for us and jumped up with a gymnast-like finish.  Our applause is exactly what they were craving and cheered for each other when we gave it.

Whenever the summer demon heat returns to Doha I ask myself why we didn't spend more time at the beach in the winter and spring.  We just can't get enough of the cool breezes and the salty air and remember one of the great things about living here.