Weekend in Philly

You know those weekends where everything goes terribly, horribly wrong?

People don’t show up. Traffic is terrible so the people who do show up are late. The restaurant you picked is full. The back-up restaurant has lousy service and bad food. Everyone wants to do different things so you end up spending half an hour standing in parking lot debating what to do next and you end up all going in different directions anyway. The ONLY museum you want to go to is closed and you ended up just staring at it before you wander away to the nearest Starbucks. Then you consume too much food and take too little insulin, which leaves your blood sugar hovering near the moon and you’re even more pissed.

Yeah. Those weekends suck.

This, however, was not one of those weekends.

Honestly, everything about this weekend went exactly the way it was supposed to, which makes me the happiest person in the universe.

On Saturday morning, I drove down to Philadelphia to have lunch with some of the coolest, craziest cats in the diabetes community. I arrived at a nearly empty Applebee’s, which was great because it made getting a table for nine people very easy! Soon after, Gary Scheiner arrived, followed by Emily, a friend of Kelly’s, who is studying to be a nurse and is interested in learning more about living with diabetes. So of course she was welcomed! Kelly arrived shortly after that. Then Scott and Joe arrived, along with Hannah and her husband, Matt, followed by Betty.

Getting a group of diabetics (and a handful of T3s) is always a recipe for lively discussion. We spent over three hours at Applebee’s talking about everything from health professionals who irritate us to misconceptions that work to our advantage (using diabetes to get a table faster or getting a handicap pass at an amusement park) to Kelly and Scott sharing their experiences of growing up in the early 80s with diabetes (oh the horrors!).

We laughed, we debated, and we took pictures!

(from the lower left-hand corner going clockwise) Betty, Emily, Kelly, Gary, Scott, me, Hannah and Matt.

After lunch, we all split up in various directions. Hannah, Kelly and I went back to her apartment in South Philly after making plans to meet Scott and Joe for dinner on South Street. We wandered around South Street for a bit, poking our heads into some of the cheap jewelry stores, killing time until Scott and Joe arrived. Around seven o’clock, we walked over to the Marrakesh, the Morrocan restaurant we were supposed to meet at. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Kelly rang the doorbell - no answer. We stood across the street, plotting a way to break into the restaurant (I suggested climbing through the upstairs window), when we saw Scott and Joe come around the corner. Joe went up to the door and knocked. A lady opened the door.

Apparently they just didn’t like us.

Morrocan food is amazing but it was a ton of food. A seven course meal that included chicken, lamb, salad, couscous, fruit and baklava - all accompanied by their pita bread - had us eating more carbohydrates than I typically eat in an entire day! We shared more experiences growing up with diabetes. But it wasn’t all diabetes, all the time! We were also thoroughly entertained when the bellydancer came around.

Hannah and the bellydancer.

After dinner, we waddled back to Kelly’s apartment through the Italian Market. We were so bloated with food that we felt like we were pregnant. Kelly joked that we had “food babies.” When we got back to the apartment, we quickly looked up directions to the studio where Hannah’s husband was recording with his band. We hoped in our car and made our way back to Ardmore, just a couple miles away from where we had lunch and a stone’s throw from Gary’s office (we waved as we past it). As we drove through the mean streets of Ardmore, which involved us passing our turn not once, but twice, we eventually found the studio down a little driveway off a mostly unpaved road. It wasn’t exactly the easiest place to get to, but having those few extra hours with Hannah was so much fun.

Kelly and I slept in on Sunday and after a quick breakfast, we went to check out Independence Hall, which is one of the last few historical landmarks that I hadn’t been to on the East Coast. When we arrived, we stumbled upon a sign that said “NO MORE TICKETS ON SALE TODAY” and we were immediately crestfallen. I was thwarted once again. But then! A man appeared! Okay, he didn’t appear, he was the security officer and was standing there the entire time. He asked us when we were leaving. Kelly replied, “She’s leaving today.” A woman was standing next to him and said that some people didn’t show up, ripped off two tickets from her little booklet and handed them to us. It was obviously meant to be.

I left later that afternoon, quickly stopping by Bank of America and a gas station (yes, I pumped my own gas and this time I didn’t even ask for help!). Traffic was a bit nasty so I didn’t get home until nearly four hours after leaving Kelly’s, but I also stopped at one of the service stations so it wasn’t completely traffic’s fault. I was still home before eight, which meant I had time to upload all the pictures and watch Army Wives.

Next Stop: Philadelphia!

I made a promise a little over a week ago not to go online during the weekends, so I’m writing my “one week notice” today instead of tomorrow even though our diabetes meet-up in Philadelphia isn’t until next Saturday, June 21.

If you’re looking for a great, easy way to meet some new people with diabetes in the mid-Atlantic region, I strongly urge you to send me an e-mail requesting information about our meet-up location (as previously mentioned, I do not post locations of meet-ups on the Internet. You have to contact me by e-mail.). The plan is to meet for lunch at 12:30 p.m. just outside of downtown Philadelphia, so it’s easily accessible by car. Afterwards, you are free to go, though I will probably head into town to check out Independence Hall because it’s one of the few places in Philadelphia that I haven’t been to (I stayed there for a week the summer after my freshman year in college, so I’ve seen almost all the historic sites).

You are more than welcome to bring your spouse, children, friends, whomever you think might be interested in chatting about diabetes for a couple of hours. Some people who have already RSVP’d are Hannah from Dorkabetic, Kelly from Diabetesaliciousness and Gary Scheiner from, well, he’s not a blogger (yet!) but you may have heard of this little book he wrote… it’s called Think Like a Pancreas.

Any questions? Hit me up here: amblass [@] gmail.com.

The Cheesecake Mystery.

It was a time of celebration, of merriment, of festivity.
The family has gathered
For a high school graduation.

It was a time of killing time.
The location: The Cheesecake Factory, adjacent to the mall.
The time: Saturday night.
So many people, we thought.
65-85 minutes, they said.

Splitting up.
Mother napping in the car,
Brother (and the Boy of Honor) checking out video games,
The Grandmothers chatting on a bench,
The Sister trying on clothes she can’t really afford at The Limited.

Pants won’t fit,
Dress is hopeless,
But alas, two shirts!
Perfect for summer (humidity and all).

Time is almost up!
Quickly zip up jean skirt, adjust top,
Slip on the heels.
Beep! Beep! says the cash register.
With a flick of the wrist,
The receipt is signed
And off we go!

Dinner is filled with laughter and good food.
Salmon and pasta and chicken,
Slices of delicious cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory and
The biggest Chinese chicken salad you have ever seen.

Buzzzzz buzzzzz buzzzzz, goes the insulin pump
As it dumps in the contents of my reservoir.
Is there a “Select All” feature?

Hours later.

Cards have been read,
Checks have been collected,
Presents have been unwrapped.
Time for a blood sugar check.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1…
520 mg/dl
Gasp!
Shock!
Awe!

“Don’t you sometimes do two tests?” the Brother asks.
Brilliant!
Furiously scrub hands in the sink,
Seeking to remove any sneaky cheesecake molecules.
Pat hands dry and
Take Two:

524 mg/dl.
Blast!
The feeling of utter failure and confusion begin to set in.
Override insulin pump, which suggests bolusing .6 units.
Something tells me: not gonna work.

Gulp down half a can of Diet Ginger Ale.
Trudge upstairs to the bedroom.
Change into pajamas.
Move insulin pump from pocket of jean skirt to
Pocket of hoodie jacket.

Notice trail of tubing down the side of my leg.
I am unplugged.
The dressing room…
Realizations begin to unfold and
The feeling of utter confusion is replaced with
The feeling of utter stupidity.

So, this is to say,
Ladies and gentlemen,
That dressing rooms are a
Very dangerous place.

And, in case you were wondering,
Or just joining us,
I am indeed
And in fact
A PWD.
(person with diabetes, yo)

I’m Kind Of Weird…

Well, technically no one picked me to do the Ten Odd Things About Me meme, but a couple people tagged “everyone” so I’m claiming those. Here are some random things you may or may not know about me. I’m also not tagging anyone, because I’m pretty sure everyone’s been tagged by now. But if you haven’t been tagged, feel free to use me as your excuse.

1. I have some odd eating habits. I love to eat kiwis with the skins still on - I like the fuzzyness. I also like to eat the tails of cocktail shrimp. Nice and crunchy. I also have to thank The Parent Trap remake for introducing me to Oreos and peanut butter and I owe my obsession with ketchup and Ranch dressing to my best friend K.

2. I sleep with a sound machine. Between the weird noises my apartment makes and the footsteps and television blaring from the apartments around me, the only way I can fall asleep is with a sound machine to give me something to focus on. I have it set to “rain,” which is a sound I got used to falling asleep to after growing up in rain-soaked Oregon.

3. I really like popcorn. I have a bit of an unusual passion for popcorn. Movie theater popcorn, air-popped popcorn, kettle corn, low-fat. I’ll even eat stale popcorn. I’ll eat pretty much any kind of popcorn, though I’m not a huge fan of white cheddar popcorn, the kind that comes in those air-filled black bags at the check-out counter at grocery stores. You know the ones. They make me ridiculously thirsty and they make my fingers sticky. So I try to avoid it.

4. I’m five foot eight. Apparently this is tall, as I’ve had a few people remark to me how tall I am. I am also, for the record, twenty-two (almost twenty-three!) as several people have also remarked to me how I seem older. I used to think that was really cool, but I think this summer might be the summer when I stop thinking that looking older is cool and start thinking that looking older kinda sucks.

5. I hate having my knees touched. I know that posting this on the Internet is a very, very dangerous thing and I swear to God I have no qualms with kicking you in the balls and screaming if you even pretend to touch them. But this list is supposed to be about weird or unusual things about me, so there you go.

6. I named my first car Buffy. True story. When I bought my car, I thought about naming it because we had christened my dad’s car the Groovy Mobile. My dad suggested naming my car Hal, but I thought naming it after a psychopathic computer that killed the crew might be sending the wrong message. So I went with Buffy, because my mom and I both thought Sarah Michelle Gellar was adorable.

7. I’m a Trekkie. Hardcore. Conventions, dressing up as characters (I was Captain Janeway for Halloween when I was 12 years old) and I even collected autographs. I know a ridiculous amount of Star Trek trivia, bought Star Trek books and went to the opening day showing of Star Trek: First Contact, which I have seen about twenty times.

8. I don’t like shoe-shopping. I’ve never been the kind of girl that has a “thing” for shoes. I find most cute looking shoes to be terribly uncomfortable, and it’s hard to find cute shoes that don’t make me come home with red welts and tears.

9. I took French for six years. I started when I was in seventh grade and went all the way up to my senior year in high school. Despite all that, I speak French very, very poorly. Reading is not too hard, but I’m terrible at speaking. It would probably take me five minutes to pull together a simple phrase.

10. The alternate choice to “Allison” was “Kirsten.” My parents still have the list of possible names for me in my baby book. My middle name, in case anyone is wondering what the “m” in my email address stands for, is Michelle.

One-Fifth

Last Saturday, I watched Number Twenty on my 101 movies in 1,001 days challenge. That means I am one-fifth of the way done with that challenge and I still have more than two years until the challenge is over. Although two years sounds like a long time, if you look at my list, you’ll see that there is a lot of other stuff on my list that I still need to finish!

I finally got around to updating my NYC Restaurant list, though I’m pretty sure I’m leaving one or two out. There is also a Thai place I went to in Queens with Scott and Jon but I don’t remember what it’s called (Scott! Help!). It was yummy, too. The 101 movie list is still sorely outdated as I have way too much catching up to do, and with all those movie links to do… it might take me awhile. I also have three movies from Netflicks waiting for me at home.

As far as the other items on my list, we all know that I’m now going to London. Then there’s the upcoming CWD conference (one goal is to go to a CWD conference once a year) and I have more blogger meet-ups planned throughout the summer. I might actually reach my goal of meeting ten bloggers by Labor Day! I’ve also found a church that I like, so I’m two weeks into my (at least) six month stint there. I’ve also begun downloading the sermons from my old church, Imago Dei Community Church, off of iTunes and I’m about a month into that.

I would love to hear suggestions from you at home about what I should work on next or how to accomplish them. Do you know of a cool art gallery (#36) or restaurant in NYC (#42) I should check out? How about a place to get a massage (#20)? Are you a diabetes blogger who is in the NYC area who wants to meet me? Just send me an email (#5). If anyone want to surprise me with tickets to the NYC Ballet (#40) or a live taping of a TV show (#47), hook a sister up!

As you can see, I’ll definitely need the next two years to get everything done. But it sure is fun!

A Weekend? Don’t Mind If I Do…

It’s Friday.

It’s sunny.

And it’s seventy-frickin’-degress!

I am sitting in my little cubicle at work decked out in a white skirt, purple flower-patterned blouse and my adorable ribbon-adorned silver flats. I’m totally rocking the summer look right now and it feels so good. Summer is taking it’s sweet time showing up here on the East Coast, so I’m very appreciative of some summer lovin’.

It’s also supposed to be nice and toasty (not burnt toasty, nice toasty), which is perfect because I’m heading into Manhattan early tomorrow morning for a workshop for young professionals and that whole “quarter-life” crisis crap. Hopefully I’ll learn something useful, or at least meet some people who also have no idea what they’re doing (yay!) and then of course I have the entire afternoon to enjoy myself in Manhattan. Might try to knock a couple more things off my 101 Things list, because I’m been slacking on that a little bit lately. Should sign myself up for a museum or visit an art gallery or something. Granted, I have more than two years left to go before this thing is over with and that seems like a long time, but before you know it, I’ll be twenty-five and still have eighty-six things left to do.

And well, crap.

On Sunday, I’m driving all of twenty miles to see my dad’s cousins in Edison. My great-aunt is in town for Passover, and while I’m not Jewish so I’m not going to Passover, it’ll be nice to see her and my cousins. We’re going for Indian food, which is the perfect thing to do in Edison because I think ninety percent of the restaurants in Edison are Indian restaurants. Don’t ask me why, but it’s true. If you want good Indian food, go to Edison, NJ.

Hopefully the weather is nice where you are too so we can all enjoy our weekend!

What I Love to Love.

I love driving, because despite how horrible it is for the environment and my wallet, there’s nothing more satisfying than a long drive with good tunes turned up so loud that I can sing along and I don’t even notice how bad I am. I love going to a new place, getting lost and finding out much fun you can have when you have no idea what to expect. I love flying in airplanes. I love the way pillow clouds look like castles and imagining an entire world exists in the sky.

I love the when the clouds are lit on fire by the setting sun. I love the way the Manhattan skyline looks early in the morning, just before the sun rises over the skyscrapers - the dark gray contrasting with the bright yellow. I love people-watching at restaurants, parks and on the subway. I love when people ask me for directions because it makes me feel like I belong.

I love purple. I love the scent of Oregon after it rains and the crackling of campfires. I love Portland. I love diabetes camp. I love waking up to birds chirping outside my window, because that means it’s going to be a nice day. I love Rita’s water ice, especially in mango. I love sitting in Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia. I love movies that make you think and songs that remind you of someone.

I love blogging and bloggers and RSS Feeds. I love writing. I love doodling. I love giggling. I love meeting new people. I love people who know things that I don’t know. I love asking questions, which I suppose means I love being curious and consequently, I love being a little annoying. I love bookstores. I love Sudoku and word searches. I love sitting on the back porch of Espresso Roma of Eugene, Oregon on a warm May afternoon with a cup of coffee and a good book.

I love when my phone rings. I love Facebook and Twitter and when the little blue envelope icon lights up when I have new email. I love the ping when I have an instant message. I love sussys and hand-written letters and when my grandmother sends me a card with a $5 bill. I love comments on my blog.

I love history. I love antique stores, the smell of old books and when an eighty-year-old couple holds hands.

I love CO Bigelow’s flavored lipgloss. I love going to new restaurants. I love naan and tandoori chicken and curry. I love Trader Joe’s. I love coming home from work and watching reruns of sitcoms. I love sneaking in fast food into a movie theater. I love going to the movies by myself. I love a big bowl of popcorn. I love movie trailers. I love art galleries and amazing photographs and taking photographs that I’m proud of.

I love when the pieces of life fall perfectly into place. I love hugs. I love reunions. I love volunteering and the satisfaction of making the world a better place. I love hearing that I’ve helped someone.

I love life, and you too.

I love that there are so many things in this world worth loving.

Edit!: I spent so much time on this that I completely forgot the challenge part. I challenge you to make your own list or leave a love of yours in the comments. The only catch? You can’t include a single person you know on your list. No “I love the way my husband laughs” or “I love hearing my little girl call for me.” It’ll be tough, I know. But this particular little exercise is about stripping away everyone who defines you and figuring out what you (not his partner; not their mother/daughter/sister/friend) love. (This meme is stolen from Michelle and the City).

Old Friends.

Over the years, I have met a lot of people with type 1 diabetes at events like conferences, Walks to Cure Diabetes and support group meetings. It’s hard to keep up with everyone, which is why I enjoy blogging so much. The Internet is constant and my blog is (almost) always here, even when I’m not so I never have to worry about missing someone. I have met a lot of people at the events that I have kept in touch with over the years, but rarely have time to see because of distance and other scheduling factors.

So when I found out that Mollie and Jackie Singer were in New York City before they left, I jumped on the chance to see them. Mollie and I played Facebook Wall tag for about a day before we finally nailed down a time to meet. It was Friday night and we were going to meet at Penn Station for dinner.

It was a windy, rainy mess of an evening and I tried to contain my anxiety about missing the train to New York City. Mollie, her twin sister Jackie (who does not have diabetes but who knows more about the disease than most people with diabetes) and their mother, Jackie (who also happens to have a twin sister named Mollie - funny, no?) met me at Penn Station before we ventured back outside for dinner.

I picked Harrington’s Bar and Grill, a restaurant I had been to a couple times before and it has a great proximity to Penn Station. It’s just one block away and you only have to risk being killed by a taxi cab once.

The waitress led us to their upstairs dining area where it was slightly quieter away from the bar. Mollie, Jackie and I have known each other for over five years and I initially met Jackie at Children’s Congress in 2001. I recognized them from all the JDRF videos and promotional material that I had seen, but I didn’t get a chance to meet Mollie because of how busy we were as delegates. Not that it ever really mattered. Mollie, Jackie and I worked together for a couple of years on the original Diabetes Teen Talk, which at the time was “Teen Talk @ Diabetes Station.” Mollie and Jackie and I rotated hosting duties for the weekly chat. Mollie has also helped me on numerous projects over the years, so it was a thrill to finally meet in person.

The first part of the conversation revolved around why Mollie and Jackie were back in New York City though I’m sure Mollie will eventually post all the details on her blog so keep an eye out. We talked about how I ended up in New Jersey and I gave them a crash course in what I do for a living. I joked that six months after I started working in digital media for a public relations agency, my father was still asking, “But what does that mean?” I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to properly explain it, but I did feel successful when I introduced Mollie and Jackie to the idea of “microblogging,” which is blogging in short form rather than long prose. The most popular tools for microblogging are Twitter and Tumblr.

We also talked about diabetes advocacy and what it’s like to go from a child advocate to an adult advocate. Mollie and Jackie started a project called the Diabetic Angels at their school when they were younger, and now different chapters have popped up all over the world. They are planning on continuing to grow this project.

I mentioned how when I was selected to be a Children’s Congress delegate how mad I was at myself for starting so late.

“I remember telling my mother, I only have three more years!” I told them. We all agreed that it was important to continue this advocacy work even though we were passed that cut-off point for being a “juvenile” and hopefully it will help make people aware that this isn’t a children’s disease.

I have often said, “Juvenile diabetes is not a Peter Pan syndrome. It does not keep us children. We still grow up.”

I think we’re growing up quite well, if you ask me.

Mollie, myself and Jackie

Slowing Down and Ramping Up.

One more week at Weight Watchers down.

I gained 1.8 lbs.

Honestly, I’m not at all surprised and I’m not really that disappointed either. This past week has been completely out of the ordinary, with me eating out everyday and skipping the gym everyday (though in my defense, I did an awful lot of walking around NYC on Wednesday and Friday and I’ve been going low at work almost everyday… need to work on those basal rates).

This next week looks to be much more typical and I’m hoping that a more normal work schedule will lead to a regular workout schedule. Plus, I have a couple of freelance projects that I either need to finish or start this week in order to meet my deadlines. My goal is to focus more on getting my tasks done instead of being my usual distracted self who seems to have the attention span of a four-year-old at a birthday party.

Which is to say, not very long.

Coming tomorrow: a long awaited Diabetes 365 update which includes photos from the Schuyler’s Monster book party with Robert Rummell-Hudson and the Magnetic Fields concert with reader and new gal-pal Gayle. Plus everything in between.

A Wish While Waiting.

I want to be happy right now.

This week has been nearly perfect - not completely perfect because, c’mon, how many weeks are completely perfect? - but it’s been pretty darn good so far.

First, it’s a four day week. That alone makes it a pretty good week, neverminding everything else that’s happened. We have also had two visitors from our other offices in town this week, including one of my team members who I hardly ever see because he lives in silly Chicago (not that I don’t like Chicago or anything…). Then on Wednesday, I worked in New York City and that alone is pretty cool but I also attended the Media Bistro book launch party for Robert Rummel-Hudson’s new book Schuyler’s Monster at a chic club on Third Avenue which was also attended by Kerri and a whole host of other cool people whom I met, which is like ten cool things all in one. Then today, we had an awesome brainstorm about something I can’t tell you about or they’ll have me killed and then a whole bunch of my co-workers went out to a bar and had drinks and appetizers and I didn’t have to pay, so there’s another ten good things.

So there’s a lot of really good things about this week.

But this entire week has been filled with terrible, awful food that I most certainly could have avoided eating but of course, didn’t. On Tuesday, I went out to dinner with aforementioned co-workers and thinking I had the entire week to be good, decided, “Sure I’ll have some fries with my sandwich! Why not?” Then on Wednesday, I thought I would either make it back home in time to make dinner or something else would come up, but the aforementioned Robert (also known as The Rob, or more casually, Rob) and his friend decided to stalk down a diner in NYC. Perfect! After nearly nine hours of no food, I was pretty much ready for anything. Oh, and don’t forget the cocktails at the bar. Then I thought, okay, tomorrow (which is today) will be better. For the most part, it was. I ate a nice healthy full-of-fiber cereal and a glass of fat free milk. But then I went low. So I had some juice. And then I went low again. So I had some Dr. Pepper. When we headed out to the bar, I arrived at 71 mg/dl. So I had some more juice. And then I had some cocktails. Not realizing that appetizers was dinner, I ate some appetizers. Not a lot, but certainly not something I really should have been eating to begin with.Then I thought, “Okay, I am definitely definitely going to the gym tonight.” I had managed to make it to the gym on Tuesday after dinner and did some cardio for 45 minutes, which I thought helped. Didn’t do a darn thing yesterday seeing as how I didn’t arrive home until a quarter to midnight. Tonight was going to be different. Paying my tab and excusing myself from the little shindig, I announced that I had to go the gym tonight and scurried off into the frigid night air. I tested my blood sugar before I got into the car and rang in at 161 mg/dl.

Perfect! I thought. I’m set!

I drove home and changed into my gym clothes, hopped into the car and dashed off to NYSC. As I got onto the elliptical machine to do a quick half hour of cardio, I started to feel a little funny. I trudged along for about five minutes when I thought, Yeah, this really isn’t working so well. I should test.

I got off and went over to the table to test. I could tell immediately when I started walking that I was slow. That slow, cumbersome, woozy walk.

50 mg/dl. And like a snap of the fingers, my nearly perfect week was over.

Of course, since I was in such a rush to go to the gym, I forgot to repack my purse with an extra juice box (I had used the one in my purse earlier at the bar to take care of the 71 mg/dl). So I go into my car and carefully made my way over to the Wendy’s two blocks down the road. I ordered a regular Coke and pulled over into a parking space to sip my soda and wait.

Waiting.

Let me tell you something about waiting. There are certain times in my life when time seems to slow down to a halt. Waiting for an elevator when you’re late, waiting for a plane to take off or land (especially at Newark!), waiting for the next bus or train when you miss yours. With diabetes, time seems to slow down when I’m waiting for my blood sugar to rise after a low. It’s like I’m in a bubble. I’m in a bubble where time takes its sweet, well, time. But everything around me is still moving at the same speed. Sometimes even faster. After a low is over, it’s like I have so much to catch up on. There is so much I could have done if my body hadn’t been deficient in its source of energy.

Then there is the whole “it’s my fault” factor. Whenever I’m low, especially in situations that are out of the ordinary, I always think, if I had just done things the way I normally do things, this wouldn’t have happened. If I had just had a diet coke and a sandwich at the bar, I would be fine. But instead, I had to pretend I was like everyone else and drink alcohol and eat fatty foods that taste incredible. I think, I had to screw up the system and now I’m paying the price.

As I sat in my car in the Wendy’s parking lot, I thought all of these things. I thought about how if I didn’t have diabetes, I would still be at the gym working off all the food I just ate. But instead, I was sitting in the car sipping on yet another high calorie does-nothing-for-me drink except for the fact it had the carbohydrates my body was so desperately seeking.

I felt fat and sad and alone and miserable.

I should be happy right now. But instead, I am wishing that someday the time spent waiting for my blood sugars to rise back to normal or to fall back to normal, or the time I spend counting carbohydrates or filling my reservoir with insulin, or the time I spend checking my blood sugar at the gym, or the time I spend away from work or my friends or my family because I have “go do something really quick”, or the waiting at the doctor’s office or the pharmacy, or simply the time spent waiting for a cure is over.

I want this time back. There is so much I could have done with this time.