The Corner Booth

A little overwhelmed. So much going on, too little time. The 2 a.m. hour rolls around and, again - as so often it happens - I find myself awake. Body and mind are tired, but the wheels are still turning. Want to write, need to write. That story from the soul that gives you a shiver as good as the moment you see a sunrise or sunset. Want to read, everything I can - the Bible, a former journalism mentor's family memoir, history of Freemasons. Intrigued by my family history, and want to explore every depth and chronicle that genealogical story before it's lost. Gears are going on the emailed political debates with an old roommate and close friend. Another good bud brings up interesting notions in our joint-efforts to study religion. My mind goes, too, to my Michigan trip this weekend and all I need to accomplish at work before then. Work and legal issues playing out in my head, as I recap the high-profile trial I sat through today. Still have to work on the neighborhood newslette

A new year, new time to start stacking on the doctor visits. Better control and diabetes management is always a worthy goal, but for some reason new years tend to bring out that goal even more. Across the blogosphere, d-bloggers are chronicling their experiences at the endo, eye examiners, dental experts, nutrionists, and general physicians. I'm in need of pump supplies, and aside from the issue of whether I'm adequately pushing for better control, will nee to consult my endo just to get a script for life-enduring supplies. But the first exam goes to the eye experts. I've been in need of new contacts and specs for months now, but have pushed off the inevitable purchase until now. My latest visit means I'll be back to contact wearing, ending the temporary adventure of wearing my glasses that need to be bumped up a couple notches. The visit wasn't a welcome one, not after the news last year from a specialist that beginning stages of diabetic retinopathy had started. D

Today marks the six-year anniversary that my cousin, Eric William Keeter, died suddenly and unexpectedly from leukemia - AML, or Acute Mylgenious Leukemia. He was 15. No one in the family ever knew before that day of this, it hit suddenly and he was gone that same day. I'd just begun a new job a few weeks earlier - the call came from my mom at work. I didn't understand what she was saying at first. The words "what" kept coming out of my mouth, as I sat at the desk of my first reporter's job. Car crash? School shooting? Some tragic accident? I fumbled the phone; tears formed; my mind raced. My father was driving to the hospital in Ann Arbor - I rushed to do the same. By the time I arrived there, the whole family was already at his bedside. It was mostly too late. My aunt and uncle know the details - they witnessed this: Rushing him that morning to the ER with a headache in the very back of his head. A suprising and unbelievable diagnosis. He's being airli