Ever since Emma turned 7, I have found myself becoming more and more irritated with the way things are portrayed to her in public. For example, when I go to the store to buy clothes for her....the store has sizes broken down into 3 sections....obviously the first being baby sizes, then the next is size 2-6, and finally the group Emma is in now, size 7-14. I am annoyed with this because in my opinion there is not a 7 year old out there that should be wearing the same style clothing as a 14 year old. There is a HUGE difference in the mindset of a 7 year old compared to that of a 14 year old!
So, I ask myself....why does the store do this? Why do clothing manufacturers make clothing in this manner? Am I the only parent out there that feels like this is something wrong or weird?
I walk around in public places and I see girls wearing clothes that cover about as much of their body as a pair of underwear and a bra would....girls that couldn't possibly be any older than 12. I look at them and I feel this uneasy fear in the pit of my stomach. I see them and I know that my own daughter is just a few years away from that age. It fills me with such a mixed sense of emotions that I have trouble even making sense of them sometimes.
On the one hand, I am probably the most liberal person you will ever meet when it comes to individuality and expression. I would never feel that it could be my place to judge someone based on their appearance. On the other hand, I look at my daughter and I can honestly say that I would never want her to feel that she had to dress that way to impress someone...a boy...her friends...anyone. I want her to not be judged on her appearance and how much skin she shows. I don't want her to be judged at all actually. I want her personality, her intelligence, her sense of humour to shine through and win people's hearts just as she has won mine. It kills me to see teen stars on tv, or in music, or movies, and magazines....being portrayed as a sexualized icon to my daughter and so many other little girls in the world. It kills me that I don't see more of a balance...for every one half dressed celebrity on the cover with her finger nail provacatively perched on the bottom lip of her open mouth......I wish there was a fully clothed celebrity holding a book...or helping a small child in need...or even involved in a fundraiser for a charity. I wish it was more balanced. I wish that these images weren't thrust at my daughter and her friends every time they leave the house. I just want to gather them all up and sit them down and tell them how important they are...how special they are for just being themselves...how they will only be 8 once...they will never again have another October 11, 2012, so they need to enjoy it being a kid....being 8 years old and playing with their toys...singing silly songs, dancing, doing cartwheels...just being a little girl! I wish I could tell them that and make it sink in before they go off into the world again to be bombarded with our over-sexualized society.
I know what you are thinking, there is no way you could change things Amy....this is the way the world is now...it's not 1950 anymore...suck it up and just accept it. I know all of this...and I wouldn't expect it to be like it was in 1950. I love the fact that there are powerful women out there...women who fight for equal rights...women who stand up and speak their mind...women who work twice as hard as a man and stand as a shining beacon of hope for our future...women who are nurturing and caring and giving of themselves...women who have ideas, act on them, work hard, and make an impact on the world we now live in.
Please know that I am not blaming society for my woes. I am not blaming music or tv or movies. I am not blaming Hollywood. I am not blaming anyone. I am simply stating that this is something that disturbs me. I know it ultimately falls on my shoulders to teach my daughter how to have self worth...how to have confidence in her beauty (inner as well as outer)...how to shine amidst a muddied mess of chaos out there...how to revel in her intelligence and share her humour with the world. I know that I must teach her these things and make her believe them deep down in her heart...believe that she is worthwile just being who she is. I accept the job and I will do my best to make her see these things and believe them about herself before I send her off to conquer the world on her own.
I think this means so much to me because as a kid I was not confident in myself...in fact I thought I was ugly. I hated my hair, my freckles, my shyness. I hated my teeth and how my eyes squinted when I smiled. I hated how all of the boys never saw me the same way as they saw some of my friends. I hated how I suffered in silence. I hated how I thought I was stupid in math. I hated how I felt like I was a nerd and not good enough or pretty enough or funny enough or popular enough or simply liked enough. Yes, I had a lot of friends...I had fun...I went to sleepovers and birthday parties and playdates...I did all of these things...but I never felt good enough.
I don't want Emma to feel that way about herself. I want her to BELIEVE In herself and KNOW that she is good enough. Without diabetes in the mix, this challenge would be extremely difficult. Since diabetes is also along for the ride, I will have just one extra hurdle to get over...one extra thing to make sure doesn't affect her and make her feel different...out of place...not good enough. I hope that I can do this. I hope that I can instill these beliefs in her. Once again, I hope that I am good enough.
What a bizarre thing to realize that I still have those same thoughts that ran through my head 25 years ago. I guess there are some demons that never leave us.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Failure is not an option
After 4 years, you would think I would be able to remember not to put so much emphasis on one particular blood sugar number. You would think that I would know better by now not to beat myself up over it. You would think that I would realize that it is just one small number measured in one small moment in time.....it is not a reflection of how good or bad I have been doing. It is not a reflection of my crap abilities at being a pancreas. it is not a reflection of my skills as a mom. It is just a number. It is a big fat ugly number that seems to scream at me from the blood sugar meter. How can one number feel like it has knocked the wind out of me and sent me to my hands and knees sprawled on the ground? How can one number have that power? It's just a number! It's just a number! It's JUST A NUMBER!
You would think that I would have this etched into my brain after all of this time....after all of the blood sugar checks we have done...all of the carb counting...all of the boluses and injections. You would think that I would know this. You would think that I wouldn't be sitting here right now pissed off at myself for not being a better pancreas and being able to figure out why the hell i have been battling low blood sugars for the past month.....only to have her body pull a complete 180 on me and now be faced with numbers like 19.8 at lunch time. I know all of this in my head. I know it in my heart. I know it's just a stinkin number....but I still get mad....I still yell at myself in my head....I still blame myself...I still feel like a failure....I still do it. I know the old saying of how we are our own worst enemies. I know it and it is true. I don't think there is anyone else on the planet who is harder on me than ME. I hate it and I wish I wouldn't be like this. I think that I still after all of this time feel like because I am her Mom....I need to fix it...I need to fix the problem and make it right. Even though I know in my head from experience that you can not always fix it....you can not always make it right when it comes to diabetes. It's just not possible.
Diabetes is not black and white. It is not a fan of keeping it simple and what works for you one day or even one month....will not necessarily work for you tomorrow. I hate the grey uncertainty...i hate the unknown...i hate it. I just wish I could take the two sides of myself and my thoughts and superglue them together so I could convince myself that the time I am wasting right now in even thinking the thoughts I am thinking and writing about is stupid. I am wasting energy in beating myself up over a number....actually a string of numbers over the past few days. I am wasting the energy. They are in the past and there is nothing I can do about them now. I need to step back....breathe....and move the heck on.
Because there will always be more numbers....always more checks...always more adjustments and always more changes. Change is constant in this life and whether I like it or not, I must accept it. It doesn't make me a bad person...a bad mom...or even a bad pancreas. Those things are defined by how I choose to handle the numbers....and how i choose to react to them. Do I sit here and waste more time getting pissed and angry and frustrated and overwhelmed and fighting the urge to wave the white flag in defeat? Or do I stop. Do I stop and tell that critic in my head to shut up?
I hung out in option A for long enough today..........it's getting me nowhere fast.....so I am now choosing option B.
You would think that I would have this etched into my brain after all of this time....after all of the blood sugar checks we have done...all of the carb counting...all of the boluses and injections. You would think that I would know this. You would think that I wouldn't be sitting here right now pissed off at myself for not being a better pancreas and being able to figure out why the hell i have been battling low blood sugars for the past month.....only to have her body pull a complete 180 on me and now be faced with numbers like 19.8 at lunch time. I know all of this in my head. I know it in my heart. I know it's just a stinkin number....but I still get mad....I still yell at myself in my head....I still blame myself...I still feel like a failure....I still do it. I know the old saying of how we are our own worst enemies. I know it and it is true. I don't think there is anyone else on the planet who is harder on me than ME. I hate it and I wish I wouldn't be like this. I think that I still after all of this time feel like because I am her Mom....I need to fix it...I need to fix the problem and make it right. Even though I know in my head from experience that you can not always fix it....you can not always make it right when it comes to diabetes. It's just not possible.
Diabetes is not black and white. It is not a fan of keeping it simple and what works for you one day or even one month....will not necessarily work for you tomorrow. I hate the grey uncertainty...i hate the unknown...i hate it. I just wish I could take the two sides of myself and my thoughts and superglue them together so I could convince myself that the time I am wasting right now in even thinking the thoughts I am thinking and writing about is stupid. I am wasting energy in beating myself up over a number....actually a string of numbers over the past few days. I am wasting the energy. They are in the past and there is nothing I can do about them now. I need to step back....breathe....and move the heck on.
Because there will always be more numbers....always more checks...always more adjustments and always more changes. Change is constant in this life and whether I like it or not, I must accept it. It doesn't make me a bad person...a bad mom...or even a bad pancreas. Those things are defined by how I choose to handle the numbers....and how i choose to react to them. Do I sit here and waste more time getting pissed and angry and frustrated and overwhelmed and fighting the urge to wave the white flag in defeat? Or do I stop. Do I stop and tell that critic in my head to shut up?
I hung out in option A for long enough today..........it's getting me nowhere fast.....so I am now choosing option B.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Cancer
The older I get, the more I have learned that the word family doesn't necessarily ONLY include people that you are blood related/marriage related to. I have learned that there are people we come across in our life, whether by chance or by choice, that wind up becoming a part of that special group of people that you hold in your heart. I am blessed to have quite a few of those people in my life.
I of course have my fellow D-Mom's and Dad's that I carry with me in my heart. They get it. They understand this life and this battle. I met them because of an awful thing that occured to us. Had it not been for diabetes, I would have never been graced with their presence....never had the opportunity to know exactly what it means to fully and completely understand and love someone that only resides inside your computer.
I have dear friends that I have met in my life that I met simply because of random occurances in my life...such as a place I have visited...or a place I lived...or a place I worked..or went to school. They all are with me every single day and I draw strength from the knowledge that they care about me and support me.
I found out some news yesterday that broke my heart. The neighbour that lives across the street from me was just diagnosed with brain cancer. This man has been a fixture in my life every day for the past almost 12 years. He is retired and his pride and joy has always been his yard. He has beautiful flowers and trees and plants growing all over, a couple of coy ponds, one of which has a lovely and serene waterfall flowing into it. Nearly all of my memories of him are outside. I remember sitting on my front porch enjoying coffee first thing in the morning and saying hello to him as he watered his flowers. I remember standing in my driveway in the beginning of February...bitter cold and snow everywhere...with my big pregnant belly...chatting with him as he brought his garbage to the curb. I remember playing in the front yard with a 2 year old Emma...her hair in short little pigtails sticking out from the side of her head...waving her chubby little arms in the air and shouting across the road, "HIIIIIIIIII TOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!" at him and seeing him burst into laughter as he shouted hello back to her. I remember walking over to his yard with Emma's tiny hand in mine and chatting with him as Emma marveled at the fact that he had fishies swimming around in his yard. I remember him looking at me with tears in his eyes and hearing his voice crack as he told me how sorry he was to hear that Emma was diagnosed with diabetes, but that he knew she would be fine because she is a tough girl and nothing will stop her in life...she will never let any grass grow under her feet. I remember him always being the first one to want to donate to her JDRF Walks...to support her hot chocolate sale fundraisers...to help her in any way he could...monetarily or otherwise.
He is one of those truly unique and special people in this world that are hard to find. If you happen to discover one in your life, consider yourself blessed. He is good to the core. He is a good soul...has an honestly kind soul...he never would ask for help...and yet he was always the first to offer help. He is a good man. My heart breaks for him and I can't imagine living here knowing that when I go outside or back out of the driveway....that he won't be there...watering his flowers or cutting his grass...getting his mail...bringing his garbage out....shoveling snow. I can't imagine it. It won't feel right. I type this with tears in my eyes because I don't even know if he really has any idea how much he means to me and my daughter. I don't even know if he realizes that he has been more like a grandfather figure to her than I could have ever hoped for. I don't know if he knows how comforting his presence out there in his yard was to me. To know that I could always count on him being out there...making his little corner of the world a little more beautiful.
So, here I sit.....sad....and feeling guilty for wanting him to remain here...because I don't want him to have to live his remaining years in pain...or confused...or disoriented because of the tumors growing inside him. I feel guilty because I want him to remain here....and in my head I tell myself, he's not even my "real family"....he's simply a man I met because I moved here in this house. But in my heart, I feel it...and I know that he is a part of my family...he is one of those special people that I hold in my heart....and this hurts....even though I know it may sound silly because I am sure it hurts his family and his wife a million times more......but it still hurts nonetheless.
I hate cancer.
I of course have my fellow D-Mom's and Dad's that I carry with me in my heart. They get it. They understand this life and this battle. I met them because of an awful thing that occured to us. Had it not been for diabetes, I would have never been graced with their presence....never had the opportunity to know exactly what it means to fully and completely understand and love someone that only resides inside your computer.
I have dear friends that I have met in my life that I met simply because of random occurances in my life...such as a place I have visited...or a place I lived...or a place I worked..or went to school. They all are with me every single day and I draw strength from the knowledge that they care about me and support me.
I found out some news yesterday that broke my heart. The neighbour that lives across the street from me was just diagnosed with brain cancer. This man has been a fixture in my life every day for the past almost 12 years. He is retired and his pride and joy has always been his yard. He has beautiful flowers and trees and plants growing all over, a couple of coy ponds, one of which has a lovely and serene waterfall flowing into it. Nearly all of my memories of him are outside. I remember sitting on my front porch enjoying coffee first thing in the morning and saying hello to him as he watered his flowers. I remember standing in my driveway in the beginning of February...bitter cold and snow everywhere...with my big pregnant belly...chatting with him as he brought his garbage to the curb. I remember playing in the front yard with a 2 year old Emma...her hair in short little pigtails sticking out from the side of her head...waving her chubby little arms in the air and shouting across the road, "HIIIIIIIIII TOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!" at him and seeing him burst into laughter as he shouted hello back to her. I remember walking over to his yard with Emma's tiny hand in mine and chatting with him as Emma marveled at the fact that he had fishies swimming around in his yard. I remember him looking at me with tears in his eyes and hearing his voice crack as he told me how sorry he was to hear that Emma was diagnosed with diabetes, but that he knew she would be fine because she is a tough girl and nothing will stop her in life...she will never let any grass grow under her feet. I remember him always being the first one to want to donate to her JDRF Walks...to support her hot chocolate sale fundraisers...to help her in any way he could...monetarily or otherwise.
He is one of those truly unique and special people in this world that are hard to find. If you happen to discover one in your life, consider yourself blessed. He is good to the core. He is a good soul...has an honestly kind soul...he never would ask for help...and yet he was always the first to offer help. He is a good man. My heart breaks for him and I can't imagine living here knowing that when I go outside or back out of the driveway....that he won't be there...watering his flowers or cutting his grass...getting his mail...bringing his garbage out....shoveling snow. I can't imagine it. It won't feel right. I type this with tears in my eyes because I don't even know if he really has any idea how much he means to me and my daughter. I don't even know if he realizes that he has been more like a grandfather figure to her than I could have ever hoped for. I don't know if he knows how comforting his presence out there in his yard was to me. To know that I could always count on him being out there...making his little corner of the world a little more beautiful.
So, here I sit.....sad....and feeling guilty for wanting him to remain here...because I don't want him to have to live his remaining years in pain...or confused...or disoriented because of the tumors growing inside him. I feel guilty because I want him to remain here....and in my head I tell myself, he's not even my "real family"....he's simply a man I met because I moved here in this house. But in my heart, I feel it...and I know that he is a part of my family...he is one of those special people that I hold in my heart....and this hurts....even though I know it may sound silly because I am sure it hurts his family and his wife a million times more......but it still hurts nonetheless.
I hate cancer.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Questions for Adults living with Type 1
Sometimes I sit here with a smirk on my face and think about how different our lives have become since diabetes entered the picture. Not even just how different this life is compared to how it was before....but more so how things have progressed over the years. In the beginning days after diagnosis, I was worried all of the time...scared...I would panic over the little things. I would blame myself for the highs and lows. I would find myself constantly staring at her to seek out those potential low blood sugars...constantly asking her if she felt ok...if she felt low. I'm sure I was probably the most annoying person on the planet to my 4 year old Emma.
As the years progress, i am finding myself not AS worried...not AS panicked...not AS stressed. It is a whole new ball game because she is now 8 and she is able to help me figure things out more. I am truly greatful to have her on my team at this point.
I imagine that this is a normal thing for all parents of d-kiddos to go through. We make that transition from sole psuedo pancreas....to captain of the pseudo pancreas team...to supporting role.
I have a few friends in real life and on line that are now adults living with type 1 diabetes and I am writing this post to them. I am at the point now in this d-life, where I am wondering if I am doing all that I should be doing...if I am handling things right....if I am supporting Emma in the way that she needs to be supported...if I am still doing too much..annoying her...if I need to step back more and let her make mistakes more so she learns? It's hard to not to question your choices in this life when it comes to the physical aspect of things and you see the numbers not play out the way you wanted them too. But I think it is also difficult not to question yourself when it comes to the emotional aspect. I want to set my kid off on the right path. I want her to have all of the tools she will need to make it in this life and to achieve all of her dreams. I want her to be strong. When she is grown and on her own...living her own life...if she happens to see those lows or highs, I don't want her to get angry at herself..I want her to see the number, fix it, and move on.
So, I guess my question for all of you adults living with Type 1 is this......looking back on your childhood, is there anything that you wish your parents did differently or is there anything you wish they would/wouldn't have said? Is there something that stands out for you? Do you have any tips or advice that you think should be shared with all parents of children with diabetes?
I want to do it right. I want to raise Emma to be a strong, confident, and loving person. So, as we keep on truckin in this life with diabetes, I want to do my best to arm her with all that she needs to make it work. Thanks in advance!
As the years progress, i am finding myself not AS worried...not AS panicked...not AS stressed. It is a whole new ball game because she is now 8 and she is able to help me figure things out more. I am truly greatful to have her on my team at this point.
I imagine that this is a normal thing for all parents of d-kiddos to go through. We make that transition from sole psuedo pancreas....to captain of the pseudo pancreas team...to supporting role.
I have a few friends in real life and on line that are now adults living with type 1 diabetes and I am writing this post to them. I am at the point now in this d-life, where I am wondering if I am doing all that I should be doing...if I am handling things right....if I am supporting Emma in the way that she needs to be supported...if I am still doing too much..annoying her...if I need to step back more and let her make mistakes more so she learns? It's hard to not to question your choices in this life when it comes to the physical aspect of things and you see the numbers not play out the way you wanted them too. But I think it is also difficult not to question yourself when it comes to the emotional aspect. I want to set my kid off on the right path. I want her to have all of the tools she will need to make it in this life and to achieve all of her dreams. I want her to be strong. When she is grown and on her own...living her own life...if she happens to see those lows or highs, I don't want her to get angry at herself..I want her to see the number, fix it, and move on.
So, I guess my question for all of you adults living with Type 1 is this......looking back on your childhood, is there anything that you wish your parents did differently or is there anything you wish they would/wouldn't have said? Is there something that stands out for you? Do you have any tips or advice that you think should be shared with all parents of children with diabetes?
I want to do it right. I want to raise Emma to be a strong, confident, and loving person. So, as we keep on truckin in this life with diabetes, I want to do my best to arm her with all that she needs to make it work. Thanks in advance!
Monday, October 1, 2012
No D-Day: I love Rocky
So in the D-blog world it is officially...No D-Day....that means I am not supposed to blog about anything diabetes related. Seems difficult at first...I mean I actually had to sit here for a minute to think about what I could write about. After 4 years, diabetes is a big part of our lives....whether we like it or not...but I do have a life outside of D believe it or not. I have friends, I have hobbies....and I really don't spend all day talking about all things d-related.
SO, I thought I would share a little tidbit about myself today. Not many people know this actually...and some might be a little embarassed to admit it...but I am an open book, so I figure..why not? Ok...so here goes....I am a HUGE "Rocky" fan! I love the movies...all of them! My favorite is obviously the first one and the 4th one....I mean does it get any better than the epic battle between Rocky Balboa and the Russian Ivan Drago? I think not.
I think my love for the Rocky movies began when i was a kid. I have vivid memories of the Rocky 4 soundtrack blaring up from the basement of my house as my Dad was working out. I remember singing along in my room to "Eye of the Tiger" and thinking that my Dad was the coolest Dad on the planet and that he was just as strong as Rocky and he could take down that Ivan Drago just as quick. I remember sitting at the dinner table next to my Dad and he would hold his arm out to me and we would bump fists and he would have a smirk on his face as he said in his best Russian accent, "I must break you."....just like Ivan did in the movie. I would giggle like crazy and bump my fist right back on his. It was our little bond...our connection...our love for the Rocky movies.
To this day, everytime I hear the songs or come across the movies on TV...I instantly smile and am transported back to that dinner table. In fact just this past weekend, I discovered the first Rocky on tv and I had to make Emma watch it. Aside from being grossed out at the lovey dovey kissing scenes between Rocky and Adrienne....she really liked it! It makes me smile to keep the Rocky tradition going in my family. I hope that when she is my age, she will look back fondly on days like this and remember watching Rocky with me. Remember how strong he was...how much determination he had...how he wouldn't let anyone stop him from doing what he needed to do. I hope it makes her smile everytime she hears "Eye of the Tiger". I hope she tells her own children about her Papa and her Mommy loving the movies too. I hope she giggles as she tells them how their Grandma even had Rocky, Pauly, and Apollo Creed action figures. (Yes...I am THAT big of a nerd...er....I mean fan!)
So, there you have it.....I love Rocky....my go to karaoke song is "Eye of the Tiger"....and one day I will own a pair of American Flag boxing shorts to go with my Rocky t-shirt! Just a little random tidbit about Amy.
SO, I thought I would share a little tidbit about myself today. Not many people know this actually...and some might be a little embarassed to admit it...but I am an open book, so I figure..why not? Ok...so here goes....I am a HUGE "Rocky" fan! I love the movies...all of them! My favorite is obviously the first one and the 4th one....I mean does it get any better than the epic battle between Rocky Balboa and the Russian Ivan Drago? I think not.
I think my love for the Rocky movies began when i was a kid. I have vivid memories of the Rocky 4 soundtrack blaring up from the basement of my house as my Dad was working out. I remember singing along in my room to "Eye of the Tiger" and thinking that my Dad was the coolest Dad on the planet and that he was just as strong as Rocky and he could take down that Ivan Drago just as quick. I remember sitting at the dinner table next to my Dad and he would hold his arm out to me and we would bump fists and he would have a smirk on his face as he said in his best Russian accent, "I must break you."....just like Ivan did in the movie. I would giggle like crazy and bump my fist right back on his. It was our little bond...our connection...our love for the Rocky movies.
To this day, everytime I hear the songs or come across the movies on TV...I instantly smile and am transported back to that dinner table. In fact just this past weekend, I discovered the first Rocky on tv and I had to make Emma watch it. Aside from being grossed out at the lovey dovey kissing scenes between Rocky and Adrienne....she really liked it! It makes me smile to keep the Rocky tradition going in my family. I hope that when she is my age, she will look back fondly on days like this and remember watching Rocky with me. Remember how strong he was...how much determination he had...how he wouldn't let anyone stop him from doing what he needed to do. I hope it makes her smile everytime she hears "Eye of the Tiger". I hope she tells her own children about her Papa and her Mommy loving the movies too. I hope she giggles as she tells them how their Grandma even had Rocky, Pauly, and Apollo Creed action figures. (Yes...I am THAT big of a nerd...er....I mean fan!)
So, there you have it.....I love Rocky....my go to karaoke song is "Eye of the Tiger"....and one day I will own a pair of American Flag boxing shorts to go with my Rocky t-shirt! Just a little random tidbit about Amy.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Lows with strangers on the floor
So yesterday Emma and I had to go out to the mall to pick up a birthday present for a friend of hers for a party this weekend. As we wandered around trying to decide what to get, I kept glancing at Emma and asking her if she felt low. My D-Momma senses were tingling. I knew something was up, but I wasn't 100% positive. I kept asking her and she kept replying with an annoyed "NO, I don't feel low! I'm fine!" I should know by now not to ignore my version of the "Spidey Senses"....I should know just to make her test....but I am trying to give her more independence and trying to stop hovering and asking and asking and asking. A gift was found and as I was standing at the counter to pay, Emma looks up at me and gives me the old familiar, "ok, NOW I feel looooow!" Awesome....I knew it. So I hand her the meter bag and she tests right there at the counter...just like we have a million times before....and sure enough...low. So, she eats a Scooby Doo fruit snack as I am paying for our purchases and we make our way out the door and head to the grocery store in the mall to pick up a couple of things. It kind of hit me as we were walking. How many times have we done this before? I sort of felt like Alice wandering around Wonderland....knowing that I have done this before...standing there looking at my surroundings and feeling as if I am walking along that fine line between that old familiar dull sense of panic and normalcy.
As we entered the grocery store, my main goal was candy. It wasn't our usual grocery store, so I wasn't familiar with where everything was located. I felt like a hunter in search of it's prey......except instead of a jaguar seeking out that elusive gazelle......I was just a Mom....scanning the aisles for candy....for the quickest route to fixing the dangerous low she was currently experiencing...sugar. Thankfully the stores have out all of their Halloween candy, so I felt like I hit the jackpot when I found a huge box full of Nerds, Laffy Taffy, Runts, and other various trick or treat candies. I tore that box open feeling like a victor in the ultimate version of The Diabetic Hunger Games and tossed a couple of boxes of Nerds her way. We wandered around the store ever so slowly because I could tell she was struggling....her feet were betraying her...stumbling over each other...bumbling along. I wanted to stop right there and give her a minute, but she refused....the determined and angry look on her face made me sad and happy all at the same time. Sad because of what diabetes was doing to her in that moment......and happy to see that fire in her eyes...because in order for her to make it in this life, she NEEDS that fire...she NEEDS that anger...she NEEDS that determination...she NEEDS to not let diabetes beat her. So, we marched on....eating a low diabetics version of life support....candy.
We passed by an elderly couple as we made our way through the store. The man kneeling down beside his wife who was sitting on the floor. I remember thinking what a bizarre thing to witness out in public....why would she be sitting on the floor? Then I noticed the blood.....spatters of blood on the floor all around her...blood covering her hands...covering her husbands hands...pouring from the back of her head. This poor woman had fallen and hit her head somewhere. She glanced up at me as we trudged by and I saw the vacant and disoriented look in her eyes...she looked stunned...like she was in pain...not sure what the hell just happened. Employees of the store surrounded her and were trying to help. It felt like I was trapped in bizarro world. There we were stuck in our low blood sugar bubble...people frantically bustling about all around us...seemingly stuck on fast forward as we were stuck on slow motion.
As time ticked on, Emma's blood sugar came back up....the colour returned to her cheeks, the elderly woman received help..........and life continued. Such a bizarre and unfortunate event in our day....intertwined for just a moment with a complete stranger.
As we entered the grocery store, my main goal was candy. It wasn't our usual grocery store, so I wasn't familiar with where everything was located. I felt like a hunter in search of it's prey......except instead of a jaguar seeking out that elusive gazelle......I was just a Mom....scanning the aisles for candy....for the quickest route to fixing the dangerous low she was currently experiencing...sugar. Thankfully the stores have out all of their Halloween candy, so I felt like I hit the jackpot when I found a huge box full of Nerds, Laffy Taffy, Runts, and other various trick or treat candies. I tore that box open feeling like a victor in the ultimate version of The Diabetic Hunger Games and tossed a couple of boxes of Nerds her way. We wandered around the store ever so slowly because I could tell she was struggling....her feet were betraying her...stumbling over each other...bumbling along. I wanted to stop right there and give her a minute, but she refused....the determined and angry look on her face made me sad and happy all at the same time. Sad because of what diabetes was doing to her in that moment......and happy to see that fire in her eyes...because in order for her to make it in this life, she NEEDS that fire...she NEEDS that anger...she NEEDS that determination...she NEEDS to not let diabetes beat her. So, we marched on....eating a low diabetics version of life support....candy.
We passed by an elderly couple as we made our way through the store. The man kneeling down beside his wife who was sitting on the floor. I remember thinking what a bizarre thing to witness out in public....why would she be sitting on the floor? Then I noticed the blood.....spatters of blood on the floor all around her...blood covering her hands...covering her husbands hands...pouring from the back of her head. This poor woman had fallen and hit her head somewhere. She glanced up at me as we trudged by and I saw the vacant and disoriented look in her eyes...she looked stunned...like she was in pain...not sure what the hell just happened. Employees of the store surrounded her and were trying to help. It felt like I was trapped in bizarro world. There we were stuck in our low blood sugar bubble...people frantically bustling about all around us...seemingly stuck on fast forward as we were stuck on slow motion.
As time ticked on, Emma's blood sugar came back up....the colour returned to her cheeks, the elderly woman received help..........and life continued. Such a bizarre and unfortunate event in our day....intertwined for just a moment with a complete stranger.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
A Poem to Mourn
When the threat of death is constantly at your doorstep
very real
very true
The fear ever present
trying to consume you
Invading your thoughts
in the afternoon sun
Stealing your dreams in the dead of night
the dead...
of night...
wandering around in your crowded head
slipping in to your bed
placing the pillow over your head
gripping the edge
the beautiful edge
between twilight and dawn
Will I relent
and forget
or will I push back?
Do I live in the light?
Do I wallow in the mire?
Mourning comes
and a new day begins
to breathe life into the fight again.
For the beautiful and broken
left behind
always on my mind,
their spirits a whispered breath
as I shed a tear for their death.
very real
very true
The fear ever present
trying to consume you
Invading your thoughts
in the afternoon sun
Stealing your dreams in the dead of night
the dead...
of night...
wandering around in your crowded head
slipping in to your bed
placing the pillow over your head
gripping the edge
the beautiful edge
between twilight and dawn
Will I relent
and forget
or will I push back?
Do I live in the light?
Do I wallow in the mire?
Mourning comes
and a new day begins
to breathe life into the fight again.
For the beautiful and broken
left behind
always on my mind,
their spirits a whispered breath
as I shed a tear for their death.
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