The Corner Booth

I was beyond nervous. Freaking out, scared in a way that I hadn't been in a long time. The fear of possible diabetes complications, the kind you've been dreading all of your life, will do that to you. In our office visit last week, he made a comment about not understanding an apparent blip in my blood work that he noticed. Maybe a sign of a potential complication, or something else going wrong. And then as I left his office and headed for more comprehensive follow-up labs, I noticed on the paperwork a medical term that I'd not seen before. Being curious, I did the worst thing you could probably do in that situation -- looked it up on Google. And my brain exploded from there. My thought: Kidney failure. OMG... IT'S HAPPENING!!!!   And then all the horror stories ran through my mind, of worst case scenarios...   Luckily, a weekend email from my endo put most of my fear and frantic over-reacting to rest. Aside from some protein in the urine, somethin

This one sucks. Sorry about that, but there's no way around it. That's how diabetes works sometimes. For me, it feels as if there's dark clouds overhead and tornadoes and thunder moving in, and there's just no way to avoid the storms -- not even by hiding inside those storm shelters of in-range blood sugars and community inspiration. I'm caught up in the suckage of suspense, waiting for an answer that might help tell me what the fuck's going on, but dreading that answer as much as I'm anticipating it. So right now, I just need to get this out of my system with a little keyboard-fingertip tapping... An endo visit where all seemed OK, except for the expected "keep on pluggin" message that was obvious before I even walked into the clinic that morning. Nothing else out of the ordinary, except an off-hand comment about potential complications and an unfamiliar medical term written on the lab-work order. Curiosity leads to the evil Dr. Google

My broken pancreas is now 30 years old. Yep, this past week brought the official start of my third decade with type 1 diabetes, a diagnosis that came back in 1984 when I was five years old. To be honest, the specific date and month of diagnosis has been lost to time, but we know it was in March or April that year. And after a new insulin pump arrived on my doorstep a few years ago on March 10, I declared that date as my official diaversary day. No, I don't exactly "celebrate" the day. Rather, it's just recognition that another year has passed, and I've been able to continue living as well as I can with type 1 -- the notion that at least for one more year, diabetes hasn't bested me. Or as my friend and fellow type 1 Kim Vlasnik likes to say: Diabetes Won't Stop Me. Looking back, I'd have to guess that probably a good decade of my life with diabetes -- A FULL THIRD OF THAT TIME -- was probably spent in the regretfully scary vicinity of "completely

Today marks my 30th year of living with type 1 diabetes. If you remember, I actually don't know the exact month or day of when I was diagnosed. But we know it happened just after my 5th birthday on Feb. 1, 1984 and a couple months before the family vacation to DisneyLand in California that spring. Not to mention that it was still cold in southeast Michigan. So, March is typically what we've gone with... and about four years ago when I received a new insulin pump on March 10, that became my self-designated diaversary from then on. With the marking of my third decade, I opted to officially commemorate my diaversary with a few D-peeps here in the Indy area at the annual Beta Cell Bash this past weekend. Remember that? A yearly gathering is a fundraising event for the local JDRF Indiana Cure Chasers bicycling team, which I first wrote about in 2011 when introducing you to Bash Founder Michael K. Schwab who's a fellow type 1 here in Indy? Mike started the Beta Cell Bas

I've now been living in the Indianapolis area for a decade. Hard to believe so much time has passed... (since the actual 10-year anniversary on Jan. 9, 2014) Three journalism jobs, two houses in the same city, and many different diabetes advocacy legs through those years. Looking through some old papers recently, I came across a handwritten letter from a close friend written just before I left Michigan for Indiana. I remember how it was written at our last visit there before my move, and it was written to those who'd follow us, sitting in that corner booth we'd learned to love. To the countless hours just enjoying coffee and conversation, learning and finding ourselves. Given the anniversary, I thought it was worth sharing now. Finding the Bottom to a Bottomless Pot To: Michael "Indiana Jones" Hoskins A cheese little greeting for those of us who take to seating In the famous Corner Booth. Thanking God these walls cannot talk For the endles

If you're looking for a balanced and unbiased review on this particular book, you're not going to find it here. Nope, sorry. There's just no way to distance myself from the fact that Kerri Sparling is not only a good friend, but someone I've had the privilege of reading for many years now through her blog Six Until Me . We in the DOC (diabetes online community) know and love her as an eloquent and funny blogger, one of the first to launch her site in 2005, who was pivotal in connecting our voices and bringing us together as a community. Of course, aside from her biggest role as a proud mom to a near 4-year-old, we also know Kerri as a diabetes advocate who travels the world speaking at conferences and events and continually being a great voice in our D-Community. And now we can add diabetes book author to the list! Her first-ever book, " Balancing Diabetes: Conversations About Finding Happiness and Living Well ," is now available online and is