Walking the Tightrope of Diabetes

Lately I've been trying to get all of my proverbial ducks in a row, with regard to health. I am a Type 1 diabetic--a challenging condition I've endured for 31 years. Some would say that I've beaten the odds to live this long with diabetes and not have any major complications. To them I would have to say: "Attitude is everything!" ;)


I do not have perfect control of my blood sugar levels--the closest I ever came to that goal was during three pregnancies that produced three healthy sons. During that era, I kept a food diary, recording everything I ate, what time I ate, how much insulin I gave, how much I exercised, and what all of the food counts were. In short, I gave each pregnancy full attention and did amazingly well, all things considered.


Most days I simply do the best that I can. I try to balance carb counts with insulin and mix in exercise to counter fluctuating levels. The challenge for most of us who deal with this disease is the fact that everything affects our blood sugar levels. If I have a cold, my level runs rock bottom low, no matter what I do. If I have the stomach flu--that level runs high, even though I can't usually eat anything. If I'm in severe pain, the level runs low. If I have inflammation anywhere, it runs high. During the summer months, my levels run lower because of the heat. And as you might guess, during the winter months, those levels soar, so on and so forth. I was also told that there will days when "insulin bubbles" (Insulin the body stores for some strange unknown reason) can randomly burst, causing an insulin reaction from hades without warning.In short: this is a challenging disease and there are days when you feel like throwing your hands in the air and walking away.


For numerous years, I ran a diabetic support group for the diabetics in our county. I did this with the help of a very good friend who was also a Type 1 diabetic like me. The support group was actually Denise's idea. Once we both started seeing the same specialist who gave us "HOPE" for a brighter future--more so than we had ever received from any other doctor, she wanted us to share that positive message with other diabetics who were also struggling.


We met during monthly meetings at the nearby city hall, and later in a special room at the local hospital. We provided special inservice meetings with doctors, nurses, etc. We ran booths at the two health fairs held annually in our community, and met with newly diagnosed diabetics to help them realize they could live a full and productive life despite this illness.


You can imagine how Denise's death earlier this year affected us all. (She was 49) I've heard from a few of the younger Type 1's that we tried to help. Some are in panic mode. "But you two said we could live a long, normal life!" Etc. & so forth. After Denise's death, my blood pressure soared for a time, something it has never done before. (My blood pressure has always been good: most days it clocks in at 110 over 70.) And I've experienced a couple of other health glitches that have made me realize I need to slow down . . . a lot . . . at least for now.


Dealing with Type 1 diabetes is like walking a tightrope. One slip can mean a painful consequence, and unfortunately, complications, and sometimes death. We keep trying to move ahead on that thin wire, knowing that each step we make is crucial. Our balancing tools include: checking our blood sugar level often, counting carbs, and working in a bit of exercise. We all try to do the best that we can, and not allow ourselves to get overwhelmed in the process.


I've found that regardless of the challenge, attitude is everything, as stated above. Stress of any kind causes my blood sugar level to run high. So I have to keep stress to a minimum. Maintaining a positive outlook aids this process greatly. And I've started something new the past couple of months--I meditate each morning for about ten minutes. My version of meditation probably varies from the world's, but it works for me. I spend ten minutes listening to soothing music (usually "Calm-Meditation" from Pandora) and watch a computerized slideshow of nature shots that I've taken through the years with my trusty camera. I focus on my breathing and attempt to relax my entire body. I can't believe how much better I feel each day. The best news: my blood pressure level has returned to normal. My blood work was in the normal range last month. Now I have to tackle getting my blood sugar levels back under better control.


I am determined to continue walking this tightrope called diabetes. =D It's rather lonely, carrying that baton by myself now (someday Denise and I will talk about how she bailed on me in an untimely manner) but I have to think that it was simply her time to leave this mortal sphere. We've both endured too many near misses in the past to ever think otherwise.


My new goal: To live another 30 years with this challenging condition--thus proving to our younger Type 1's that this can be done. For a while, I may be cutting out other things to bring my life into better focus. (My entire family has been trying to teach me a handy two-letter word for years, something I'm finally starting to use.) I'm no longer trying to be "Wonder Woman," as I simply strive to be "Tight-Rope Girl." And in the end, perhaps the two titles will combine as I work harder than ever to stifle the effects of this disease.

Half Empty or Half Full?

I'm sure we've all heard the adage: "It's important to see the cup half full." Some people see it half-empty on a frequent basis. Personality types are often determined by how we see that elusive cup. Sometimes it depends on the day. I've spent much of my life trying to see the cup half full. But there are days, like this entire past month, when that cup has been looking a tad bit on the empty side. True, I'm still wading through the grief that goes along with losing a good friend. (See post below.) One day I'm fine and figure I've moved on---the next day, not so much. It becomes a balancing act between forcing a smile and ignoring inner pain. One of the lifelines that helps me survive this process is having a sense of humor. A good laugh goes a long way toward easing turmoil. I've also learned that service is a great way to heal. Doing something for someone else chips away at the icebergs that sometimes erupt within our hearts.

We live in a challenging time. (Understatement of the year!) I suspect it has always been thus. There have always been wars and rumors of war. People have always struggled from day to day to make a living. I also think parenting has always been an adventure (think of how our first parents must have felt when one son killed the other--I'm just sayin'). I seriously doubt when we compare notes on the other side, we'll point fingers and say, "Oh, yeah, well you lived during an era of complete and utter peace. There were no trials, no disappointments, no heartaches." There might be one exception to this train of thought, and that would involve those lucky types who will dwell during the millennium, and I think even then, there may be a challenge or two to test their mettle.

Life is a test. My paternal grandmother used to tell me that this world is a giant classroom and we never know when we'll get hit with a pop quiz. Truer words were never spoken. I also think one of the most significant lessons we'll ever grasp during this mortal education is the importance of having a good attitude. This is often difficult when we're covered in something like boils (See the book of Job), swallowed by a whale (See the book of Jonah, or Pinocchio), or driving in Utah (see list of least friendly places to drive).

This attitude extends to how we treat each other. Are we nice to the poor clerk at the store who is paid minimum wage to endure the wrath of miffed bargain shoppers? Do we smile while waiting in the never-ending line at the post office? Are we overly-critical of others who don't measure up to our expectations? Do we take our very bad day out on the people who should mean the most to us?

Since we're all very different, we think in varying ways. We believe in all kinds of things, but there is one item we should consider: We are supposed to look on the bright side whenever possible and play nice with others. If you ever doubt this philosophy, review the Sermon on the Mount.

Bottom line, when this life is but a memory, the thing that will matter most is how we played the game. Were we fair, honest, obedient? Did we try to help others? Were we kind in our dealings with those around us? Did we bring joy into the world . . . or did others tip toe around us because our cup was half-empty and our attitude reflected this mindset? Something to ponder daily. Do we see the cup half-empty or half-full? This question may have eternal significance someday. Definitely a compelling point to consider.

Making Waves

On Saturday, following a stressful week, I found myself enjoying the great Bear Lake with some of my family. One of my sons, his wife, and their small daughter, came up to spend the weekend. That break at the lake was very much needed. We took over a picnic lunch, a canopy for shade, and camp chairs to kick back on and relax. But what helped me unwind more than anything else was something I haven't done in years. I ventured out into the lake and bobbed on a plastic flotation device. It was great. I leaned back, enjoyed the slight breeze, and rode the waves while visiting with my son. What a wonderful reprieve from the tension-filled week I had survived.

I did have quite an analogy surface as I lay back, watching the clouds go by. It was much more fun riding the waves as they came in, than to sit on still water. In other words, the friction that caused the waves made for a more entertaining ride. Hmmm. Food for thought.

I will admit there are days when I long for smooth sailing in my life--moments when there are no waves. But what would I be missing if that wish was granted? Would I arrive at the end of my journey and find that I had learned nothing of importance as a result? Enduring large unpredictable waves adds spice and color to our lives. We may not enjoy all of the foaming crests that descend without warning. But there is something exhilarating about learning to ride the waves as they come.

Since my life to this point has been filled to the brim with varied challenges, tests, sorrows, and joys, I suspect that trend will continue until I'm "safely dead," a phrase I'm borrowing from an inspired talk given by a former stake president. The winds of change will continue to bring mountainous waves my way. With God's help, I can learn to ride through all of them until the final breeze fades into stillness. Will waves follow me into the hereafter? Time will tell, but I'm almost certain I won't be basking on still water. I believe there will always be challenges, growth, and learning; what we gain is dependent on the type of journey we desire to make.