This poem is going to make me seem like I have anger issues...or maybe that I'm even a bit unstable...lol...which I suppose I am in a certain way...diabetes has made me that way. I'm really not though, I'm not an angry person in general...I just had a bad evening...and I had to get this out...and now I feel a little better.
Pure electric anger coursing rapid fire through my veins
igniting that flame
spitting out sparks and bursting forth a plume of bright orange insanity
a dull ache all across the top of my head
and I know...
without a shadow of a doubt...
this is it...
this is how it will always be...
this is ours
Our version of the proverbial dream
Do I let those flames overtake me,
grab hold and envelop my body
suffocating...
choking back the tears...
causing me to scream and writhe in relentless agony?
Or do I smother them and allow the smokey hatred to pour out,
float away into the misty nothingness of the night sky?
I have no choice
With the pulsing heartbeat of madness breathing down my neck
I fill my lungs with the chaotic air surrounding me and...
once again I blow out those flames,
Forcing myself to be content with the glowing embers of determination
Monday, November 7, 2011
The art of public speaking for me
Believe it or not I am a shy person by nature. I do not like to be the center of attention or have all focus on me. I do not like public speaking, I have a tendency to fumble my words, stutter, and forget important things that I had every intention of saying when it comes down to it. I am much better at writing things out. It's easier for me to get the words out on paper (or computer for that matter!) It's comfortable...safe...easy for me to handle things that way. I remember being back in high school and having to stand up in class and give an oral report on something I was assigned. That was pure torture for me. For some reason, whenever I am extremely nervous I have a tendency to yawn....yep....yawn. So I appear totally bored with the situation going on around me...which in turn makes everyone bored as well I think. Ahhh...if only I could go through life without speaking and just write everything down instead.
Since diabetes came into our lives, I have found myself having to overcome that fear time and time again. I've found myself reaching out to others in our diabetic community...talking to them about this life, helping those that are newly diagnosed, and simply trying to raise awareness. I've found myself in front of cameras, on the radio, and even speaking to newspaper reporters. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely happy and honored to have that opportunity to get the word out there...to try to educate and advocate for our kiddos. I wouldn't have it any other way honestly. No matter how nervous I get, how shaky my hands are, how sweaty my palms become...or how I struggle to get the words out between yawns....I will continue to immerse myself in these situations. I will do it until a cure is found. I will do it simply because I think it's important to get the word out...to perhaps make people understand...instill a little bit of a spark of knowledge in their minds so that they will realize the seriousness of this disease. I will endure the seemingly terrifying shyness of talking to strangers about diabetes until the day comes where I don't have to do it anymore...simply because I want a cure. I want it so bad that I can taste it. Sometimes I feel like we are so close...it is just outside of our reach...just beyond the tips of my fingers. I can feel it there and I want it so bad that it hurts. I sit here typing this with tears in my eyes because of that pain. I want that day to come so I can somehow reverse or make up for that awful gut wrenching pain of diagnosis day. I sometimes feel like I have spent the last 3 1/2 years trying to "make up" for that day to Emma...trying to gloss things over and make her see the positives all the time...trying to brush it off like diabetes will never beat us...we are far too strong to let it win. All of those finger pokes, insulin injections, pump site changes, bloodwork, clinic visits, lows, highs, fears, worries, stresses, close calls.....all of those things will not define us...we are bigger than this life we were given and this hand we were dealt. So, here I sit...waiting for that cure day...so I can rejoice and attempt to erase the horridness of that moment where I had to say, "Emma...I'm sorry baby...but the doctors say that you have diabetes." I know that I will never fully be able to erase that moment in time...that minute of our lives...that single sentence. But I will do my best to try. I will endure the fear, the nervousness, the shyness, the feelings of inadequacy...all for the sake of making it...surviving till that day comes where I can shout those words from the rooftops and scream at the top of my lungs, "EMMA...SWEETIE, THEY FOUND A CURE!!"
Since diabetes came into our lives, I have found myself having to overcome that fear time and time again. I've found myself reaching out to others in our diabetic community...talking to them about this life, helping those that are newly diagnosed, and simply trying to raise awareness. I've found myself in front of cameras, on the radio, and even speaking to newspaper reporters. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely happy and honored to have that opportunity to get the word out there...to try to educate and advocate for our kiddos. I wouldn't have it any other way honestly. No matter how nervous I get, how shaky my hands are, how sweaty my palms become...or how I struggle to get the words out between yawns....I will continue to immerse myself in these situations. I will do it until a cure is found. I will do it simply because I think it's important to get the word out...to perhaps make people understand...instill a little bit of a spark of knowledge in their minds so that they will realize the seriousness of this disease. I will endure the seemingly terrifying shyness of talking to strangers about diabetes until the day comes where I don't have to do it anymore...simply because I want a cure. I want it so bad that I can taste it. Sometimes I feel like we are so close...it is just outside of our reach...just beyond the tips of my fingers. I can feel it there and I want it so bad that it hurts. I sit here typing this with tears in my eyes because of that pain. I want that day to come so I can somehow reverse or make up for that awful gut wrenching pain of diagnosis day. I sometimes feel like I have spent the last 3 1/2 years trying to "make up" for that day to Emma...trying to gloss things over and make her see the positives all the time...trying to brush it off like diabetes will never beat us...we are far too strong to let it win. All of those finger pokes, insulin injections, pump site changes, bloodwork, clinic visits, lows, highs, fears, worries, stresses, close calls.....all of those things will not define us...we are bigger than this life we were given and this hand we were dealt. So, here I sit...waiting for that cure day...so I can rejoice and attempt to erase the horridness of that moment where I had to say, "Emma...I'm sorry baby...but the doctors say that you have diabetes." I know that I will never fully be able to erase that moment in time...that minute of our lives...that single sentence. But I will do my best to try. I will endure the fear, the nervousness, the shyness, the feelings of inadequacy...all for the sake of making it...surviving till that day comes where I can shout those words from the rooftops and scream at the top of my lungs, "EMMA...SWEETIE, THEY FOUND A CURE!!"
Saturday, November 5, 2011
The stillness of the night
So, I walked to the park with Emma tonight after supper and these words came crashing into my mind...so now that the house is quiet and I am the only one awake...I decided to write them in a poem.
Down the long and winding road we go
hand in hand...weathering the cold as one
The moonlight shining down upon your face
casting an innocent glow
an ease and comfort...peaceful and lovely
surrounding us, leaving behind an afterglow so bright,
like a flashbulb trail in the night.
My breath puffs out before me which each step
a brief cloud which my body crashes through
as we move ever onward...
and all the while you will smile.
The stillness of the night...
the moment...the fight
is not lost on me in this time.
We will rise above and soar the skies
leaving footprints on the stars that pass us by.
Side by side
we will master this life,
and leave behind an echo of laughter
in the cold dark night.
Down the long and winding road we go
hand in hand...weathering the cold as one
The moonlight shining down upon your face
casting an innocent glow
an ease and comfort...peaceful and lovely
surrounding us, leaving behind an afterglow so bright,
like a flashbulb trail in the night.
My breath puffs out before me which each step
a brief cloud which my body crashes through
as we move ever onward...
and all the while you will smile.
The stillness of the night...
the moment...the fight
is not lost on me in this time.
We will rise above and soar the skies
leaving footprints on the stars that pass us by.
Side by side
we will master this life,
and leave behind an echo of laughter
in the cold dark night.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Doing things for others makes YOU feel good
Today is Random Act of Kindness Day and I tried my best to spread some love around. I wanted to let all of you in the blog world know that I truly appreciate you. I love being able to pour out all of my thoughts, fears, and stresses on here and get support from you all. I started out writing this blog to hopefully reach someone who was just starting out on this path...someone who was lost in the dark, scared, worried, terrified that they wouldn't be able to handle this new life. I wrote it for them in the hopes that my words would give them some comfort in knowing that they are not alone in the dark...I am standing right there beside them sometimes fumbling in the dark for my trusty flashlight to help us find the way to smoother ground....and sometimes I have my giant spotlight held high above my head illuminating the difficult path and making it look like the noon day sun is shining down upon us. Little did I know though that I would also wind up writing this blog for myself. I have found it to be sort of like my little free therapy session. If I am having a horrible time struggling with getting things under "control" and figuring out what to do while bumbling around in the dark hoping to find my footing and solid ground again, I know that I can get it all out here...I can empty out my head...let the words, tears, and emotions flow from my aching head all the way down to my fingers and just get it out. I found myself posting my blog and checking back now and again to see if there were any comments on it...just so I could get your perspective on things...so I could feel that same same...that connection...the love. I want you to know that it means the world to me to read your comments. I think you are all amazing people and I am truly greatful to have you in my life.
So, I started this day by buying a coffee for the person in the drive thru line behind me at Tim Hortons, I hugged Emma and told her I love her and how much she means to me, and I wrote a little note to my facebook friends and family...a little note to try to explain to them how much they mean to me...just to brighten their day. It took me all day pretty much...and it was beyond worth it. My intentions for doing it were to make my friends smile and to make them feel loved and special...but as the day wore on and I kept receiving replies back on my comments to them...I learned one of life's most important lessons.
Doing things for others makes you feel good.
I learned that making someone else smile....makes ME smile. I walked around today with a big smile on my face knowing that I am a lucky girl. Diabetes may have come into our lives and caused an unimaginable amount of pain, stress, worry, and fear....but it has also brought me all of you. It has shown me that I am not alone...I would be lost without all of you. So, I went about my day...did my grocery shopping, even helped an elderly man find some 1% milk in the dairy section, did my D-Momma duties for the day, and lived my normal life....all the while with a huge smile on my face and a warm feeling in my heart. Thank you for making this day special for me.
So, I started this day by buying a coffee for the person in the drive thru line behind me at Tim Hortons, I hugged Emma and told her I love her and how much she means to me, and I wrote a little note to my facebook friends and family...a little note to try to explain to them how much they mean to me...just to brighten their day. It took me all day pretty much...and it was beyond worth it. My intentions for doing it were to make my friends smile and to make them feel loved and special...but as the day wore on and I kept receiving replies back on my comments to them...I learned one of life's most important lessons.
Doing things for others makes you feel good.
I learned that making someone else smile....makes ME smile. I walked around today with a big smile on my face knowing that I am a lucky girl. Diabetes may have come into our lives and caused an unimaginable amount of pain, stress, worry, and fear....but it has also brought me all of you. It has shown me that I am not alone...I would be lost without all of you. So, I went about my day...did my grocery shopping, even helped an elderly man find some 1% milk in the dairy section, did my D-Momma duties for the day, and lived my normal life....all the while with a huge smile on my face and a warm feeling in my heart. Thank you for making this day special for me.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
This is HER disease
As I stood on the playground at school with Emma this morning, I got to see a little glimpse of exactly how much diabetes means to her. She was standing there chatting and giggling away with one of her friends from class. This particular little girl has a tendency to be more on the hyper side...flitting about talking a mile a minute about anything and everything that pops into her head. It's kind of amusing to me because I'm not used to that sort of behavior really. Don't get me wrong, Emma has her moments of hyperness and craziness, but for the most part she is a pretty mellow easy going kid. So, when I am around a kid who leans more toward the hyper side of life...it makes me giggle.
Anyway, I stood there hanging on to my trusty sidekick, the froggie bag that contains Emma's BG meter, strips, lancet, and a couple of snacks for in case she goes low. Well, like a flash of lightening...this little girl snatches the bag from my hands and starts talking to the frog and tossing it back and forth in her hands. I didn't really think anything of it simply because the bag is well padded, zippered shut, and I was standing right there. I knew that the froggie cuteness was a bit too much for her to not want to get a closer look at it.
Emma however was NOT so understanding or patient. The look on her face instantly changed from big smiles and laughter to panic and anger...possesiveness. She did NOT want this little girl to be touching her meter bag. She did NOT want her to have it in her hands at all! I saw my normally docile and calm child run over rip the froggie bag from her friends hands. I saw Emma give her a look of complete and total anger and yell at her to give it back...it wasn't her bag...she can't touch it...it's HER meter inside and she can't touch it! I stood there watching my sweet girl reclaim her bag and shove it back in my hands...and then take it even one step further by standing protectively in front of my...blocking her friend from possibly taking the froggie bag again.
It was quite the display really. Over the past 3 years 4 months and 7 days, I can honestly say that I haven't heard much in the way of what she really thinks about her diabetes. There have really only been maybe 3 occasions where she has suddenly burst into tears about how she wishes she didn't have it and how she misses how life was before she had it. I have not once ever seen her show such emotion over her meter though. I've never seen her show such a display of possesiveness. At first it made me laugh inside thinking how silly it was really...to get so upset over something like a meter bag. As I walked back home alone though, I had more time to think about it...more time to try and understand where my child was coming from. I got it. I got it as much as any parent of a type 1 diabetic child could possibly get it. This is HER disease...HER pump...HER blood sugar fluctuations...HER health...HER froggie bag that contains HER meter. As much as she appreciates my help in managing it and taking care of her....it is still HER disease...only HERS. It is the one thing in this world in her 7 year old mind that belongs to her and HER alone. Sure she knows there are millions of other diabetics out there...but this life...this fight...it is HERS. I am merely a player...a supporting actor...the one standing on the side...waiting in the wings offstage while SHE is the one LIVING with this disease center stage. All that goes along with diabetes...the numbers, the blood, the carbs, the tools...including her meter bag...it's all HERS. I walked up my street and approached my front door with a smile on my face realizing how proud of her I am...how proud I was to see her stand up for herself...feet placed firmly on the ground beneath her and make it known that she owns this...it doesn't define her or control her or rule her world...but she has that fire in her belly...that fight...it's there...and I am impressed and happy to have gotten to see it come out this morning.
Anyway, I stood there hanging on to my trusty sidekick, the froggie bag that contains Emma's BG meter, strips, lancet, and a couple of snacks for in case she goes low. Well, like a flash of lightening...this little girl snatches the bag from my hands and starts talking to the frog and tossing it back and forth in her hands. I didn't really think anything of it simply because the bag is well padded, zippered shut, and I was standing right there. I knew that the froggie cuteness was a bit too much for her to not want to get a closer look at it.
Emma however was NOT so understanding or patient. The look on her face instantly changed from big smiles and laughter to panic and anger...possesiveness. She did NOT want this little girl to be touching her meter bag. She did NOT want her to have it in her hands at all! I saw my normally docile and calm child run over rip the froggie bag from her friends hands. I saw Emma give her a look of complete and total anger and yell at her to give it back...it wasn't her bag...she can't touch it...it's HER meter inside and she can't touch it! I stood there watching my sweet girl reclaim her bag and shove it back in my hands...and then take it even one step further by standing protectively in front of my...blocking her friend from possibly taking the froggie bag again.
It was quite the display really. Over the past 3 years 4 months and 7 days, I can honestly say that I haven't heard much in the way of what she really thinks about her diabetes. There have really only been maybe 3 occasions where she has suddenly burst into tears about how she wishes she didn't have it and how she misses how life was before she had it. I have not once ever seen her show such emotion over her meter though. I've never seen her show such a display of possesiveness. At first it made me laugh inside thinking how silly it was really...to get so upset over something like a meter bag. As I walked back home alone though, I had more time to think about it...more time to try and understand where my child was coming from. I got it. I got it as much as any parent of a type 1 diabetic child could possibly get it. This is HER disease...HER pump...HER blood sugar fluctuations...HER health...HER froggie bag that contains HER meter. As much as she appreciates my help in managing it and taking care of her....it is still HER disease...only HERS. It is the one thing in this world in her 7 year old mind that belongs to her and HER alone. Sure she knows there are millions of other diabetics out there...but this life...this fight...it is HERS. I am merely a player...a supporting actor...the one standing on the side...waiting in the wings offstage while SHE is the one LIVING with this disease center stage. All that goes along with diabetes...the numbers, the blood, the carbs, the tools...including her meter bag...it's all HERS. I walked up my street and approached my front door with a smile on my face realizing how proud of her I am...how proud I was to see her stand up for herself...feet placed firmly on the ground beneath her and make it known that she owns this...it doesn't define her or control her or rule her world...but she has that fire in her belly...that fight...it's there...and I am impressed and happy to have gotten to see it come out this morning.
Wash it all away
I wish I could wash it all away
One swipe of the hot steaming cloth full of holes...
gripped tightly in my hand...tattered and weary
washed away forever
Be rid of the ache that threatens to burst through my chest
Cease the pounding sound of my own heart
that echos in my wasted ears
washed away forever
that which leaves me on the verge of choking uncontrollable sobs
gasping for just one more breath of sweet air...
sweet as that first taste of watermelon on a hot July day
washed away forever
I wish I could wash it all away
and be left clean and new
free from scars and worry
Left standing there in a puddle of old
dripping down from my soul
leaving tracks behind to serve as a reminder
never forget
left standing there watching as it pools around my feet
before slipping away
disappearing in the dark emptiness
leaving me new
leaving me whole again
leaving me
One swipe of the hot steaming cloth full of holes...
gripped tightly in my hand...tattered and weary
washed away forever
Be rid of the ache that threatens to burst through my chest
Cease the pounding sound of my own heart
that echos in my wasted ears
washed away forever
that which leaves me on the verge of choking uncontrollable sobs
gasping for just one more breath of sweet air...
sweet as that first taste of watermelon on a hot July day
washed away forever
I wish I could wash it all away
and be left clean and new
free from scars and worry
Left standing there in a puddle of old
dripping down from my soul
leaving tracks behind to serve as a reminder
never forget
left standing there watching as it pools around my feet
before slipping away
disappearing in the dark emptiness
leaving me new
leaving me whole again
leaving me
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Freedom!!
It was a beautiful sunny Sunday today. I took Emma to the park and as usual when we arrived I checked her blood sugar to make sure we were dealing with an ok number to go off and play. Well, as the usual life with diabetes goes...so very unpredictable!...she was high. I couldn't understand why...she had just gotten a bolus for a snack before we left...she isn't ill...nothing was bothering her. UGH. So I gave her a correction and off she went to play. I happened to be standing next to her on the monkey bar play structure thing and glanced over at her as she was reaching up to grab the bar...and I noticed a TON of bubbles in her tubing....the reason for the high blood sugar! So....I did what had to be done...I got her to unplug from her site, which involved undoing her pants and pulling them down a bit because the site was actually in her thigh today. She was not pleased to say the least. As soon as she handed it over to me though, she took off running to go swing from the bars on the other side...all the while yelling, "FREEDOM!" At first I found myself giggling at the site of her...and then I felt that all too familiar pang of sadness and hurt and loss in my heart. It caught me off guard and took my breath away. I stood there holding in my hands the device that keeps my child alive everyday...and I wanted to just throw it across the field. I wanted to be rid of it. I wanted to not have to see her always have this "weight" attached to her anymore. I wanted her to run free...to play...to leave it all behind. Then in an instant I was snapped back to reality...this is our life...this is her life...diabetes is a part of us...and it always will be until a cure is found. I held the pump in my hands and as I primed the bubbles out of it...I cursed it for having to be with us....but I thanked it for being with us...for helping me...for keeping Emma alive...for making our life a little less different and giving her a whole lot more freedom....real freedom.
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