The Corner Booth

Photo by Mike Hoskins Today, something a little different... We're imagining what a job ad might look for that lazy organ in the body largely to blame for us having to live with diabetes: WANTED: Self-starting leader who isn't afraid to call the shots, and can bring a creative style to a challenging body of work. The position might even be for a CGM Data Entry Manager, Artificial Pancreas Division of Associates In-Corporated (A1C). Word has it that my very own slacker organ, Peter PANcreas, put his blood into the test strip vial for consideration. And rumor was that he scored an interview! So, we reached out to the company's executives to see how that all played out. Thanks to a source inside A1C who managed to get us "in range," we were able to snag a copy of the resume that Peter submitted for the position. Peter PANcreas 104 Blood Meter Blvd Mike's Body, 888 Behind the Stomach peterpancreas@diabetesmine.com OBJECTIVE: To find a management and supervi

Let's start out with a couple catchy-quotes we all know and love. "Judge not, lest ye be judged." "Those who live in glass houses, shouldn't throw stones." Well, sure. Sound advice. Easy enough to follow, right? Only if you can tell whether someone's actually judging you or not. And that's not always easy, thanks to the simple little fact that we are made the way we are. A few people I know wrote some blogs recently that got me thinking about the human condition, and specifically the topic of how quickly we judge and point fingers in today's society. One post that caught my eye comes from Renza over in Australia , and she wrote about how so many doctors judge their patients who aren't following directions and doing what they're supposed to. Her point: leave that judgement at the door, and just realize that we don't want your judgement. That's not going to make us any healthier, or get us closer to wanting to lis

The morning sun painfully peeks through the bedroom window to pay his final respects, warming her body as the warmth slowly fades for the final time. My eyes are closed to him, for in my eyes all the world is clouded with sorrow. With all my heart, I hold onto her hand to ease the pain, hoping to contain her love and tenderness in the earthly body for one moment more. A tearful joy floods my head as she takes my hand and holds on with that tender grandmother love. A while light of wonder that fills the room with essence of peace. Maybe that's just rays of sunlight, but to me they are angels. Beings with unblemished complexions of compassion and sympathy. They hover above the bed, waiting with patience to guide her soul into the heavenly light. Clouds of misery hang just as close, during this dark hour. The hour in which my childhood forever faded into adulthood. She has been released from this mere planet of pain and suffering, and moves on to a place of