Reverb10 – December 3 Prompt – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)

One moment. One moment that I felt most alive this year. As I said a few days ago, this year has been meh. The aliveness has kind of been zombie like where I’m just going through motions. I so badly wanted to be able to have a moment that just “POPPED” with aliveness but in the…I guess, the physical realm…it just doesn’t exist.

And this is where I compartmentalize things, I try to keep everything separate, totally waffle like. I’ve got God in a square, adventure in a different square, work in another square, diabetes in a square…I try to keep it all very defined where those lines are. I try to keep them separated, I don’t want them to contaminate each other. But in a sense, this year has very much been about decompartmentalizing, especially where my relationship with God is concerned. The way I don’t share knowledge about me having diabetes, I don’t share God, I kept Him in his little waffle square filled with butter.

But it’s in the spiritual realm, my relationship with God, that there is so much aliveness. I think the best most alive moment I had was when I was at Discovery Camp this year. I was struggling with my stomach and had left a leader’s session to go vomit. I’m staring down into one of the most clean toilets I’ve ever seen for a public place and my Spiritman asks what I’m doing. I respond, I’m getting ready to throw up, what does it look like I’m doing. Spiritman says that I can do that later I need to get back into the session. I obeyed. I sit down, I’ve got my head between my legs and there’s a call for something, the details escape me. But I go forward and the unexpected happens.

I’m worshiping God, I’m praising Him. Someone lays hands on me and I fall out in the Spirit. I unexpectedly went down…like a rock I’m told, but I didn’t get hurt, and what God showed me, that was amazing, and it was the most alive moment of my year.

It’s as though I was holding hands with God and we were spinning. You know, how you spin a little kid and their feet are out behind them and everything is a blur because you’re going so fast.

Courtesy Of Nathan Jones

That’s the moment I had with God. And the cool thing is, the message that went with it. It’s in 2 parts:
1) When life is crumbling to the ground, and everything is crashing together, I have one very clear constant, and that is God
2) God wants to be so far in front of any other priority in my life that everything behind Him is a blur

It was cool too because I got to share this message with the youth of the church that I go to. You can hear all about it if you like.

There are other leaders that taught as well, and they had good stuff to share, but if you just want to hear about my experience, it starts at min 23

The reality is, I feel most alive when God is the center of my life. There’s meaning, there’s hope, there’s purpose. You take all that away and I’ve got nothing. As I think about it, it’s when I’m sharing the love of God to people and hanging with the youth, and especially the midschool girls that I feel most alive. I think the struggle in coming up with a moment was that I didn’t want to share this moment because I don’t like to put my relationship with God out there, but He’s not a pocket God, that’s not where he belongs. He’s the center of my life, and He makes me feel alive.

It’s like pay it forward. One person watches then tells someone else to watch it and people benefit from it. It’s a win-win situation.

I’m sharing this now because I’ve not been paying much attention all week. Well, I’ve paid attention, but I haven’t done what all the blog posts everyone is writing have said. I hadn’t watched the video. Don’t ask me why, I don’t have a good reason other than my brain said, “I’ll watch it later”.

Then, this morning, one of my friends, a non diabetic who keeps tabs on what’s going on in the world of diabetes sends me a link. And it’s this video that you’re about to watch. And guess what, I wish I had watched it sooner because 1) it’s good stuff and 2) I really like the music and those two reasons are enough to keep watching it over and over again…but then there’s also the fact that every view the video gets, insulin is being donated to children in need (although, I’m not sure me watching and watching and watching it again gets me more than one hit, but when you watch it and tell someone else to watch it and they tell somone else to watch it and it keeps going, that’s some good stuff right there ).

And now, I’ll stop talking, so that you can watch.

See, it was cool wasn’t it….now go tell someone else to watch it and help out children in need

For over 2 years now, I’ve been saving insulin vials with no real clear picture of what they’d be used for. Back in 2007 Major Bedhead made a post about the cool Christmas lights she made and so I knew there was a good use for the vials if I didn’t come up with anything else.

I was reinspired to use the vials on Diabetes Art Day when Laurel at Spawnlings.com put the vials on a string of lights as well.

I had this image in my head of what I wanted to do…a multi-colored sphere of lights, and went straight to work. I started with a styrofoam ball that quickly had me ankle deep in a mess. It caused a near war in my house because of the stench of the insulin and my mom’s over active smell glands (yes, I’m making things up, I don’t know what causes us to smell better sometimes than others, but her nose was ultra sensitive), and then there was the fight over whether or not it was going to blow up because, and I quote “it’s highly explosive” (I don’t believe it’s highly explosive).

I’m very pleased with my new light fixture…it took over 2 years of saving insulin vials for a total of 54 vials. It’s got a retail value, sans-insurance of about $8k, and, it looks cool. So, when it’s all said and done, and we’ve shot up all the insulin in a vial, we can save it so that later, we can light it up

I really should have a dreams category on this site for as often as I dream about diabetes, cycling, diabetes, racing, swimming, triathlons, diabetes.

I’ve blogged a few in the past: Storm Troopers and Diabetes. Jabba the Hutt delivering Insulin. Wolves and medic alert bracelets. Stealing Cars. Pre-race anxiety.

So, last night, I had a dream…

On a plane instead of getting pretzels they were handing out bags of syringes, you know, your typical 10 syringes per bag, bag of syringes.

I got off the plane and went to a hotel where I was meeting a friend. As I’m rolling my bags down the hall to my room I’m leaving a trail of syringes. When I see my friend, I tell her about getting syringes on the plane instead of pretzels and she asked how many I had gotten. I had gotten quite the load of syringes because people didn’t know what to do with them. She asked if she could have them because her and her boyfriend didn’t have insurance yet and they could really use them (they’re both diabetics in case you’re wondering).

Next thing I know, our room is raided by a bunch of teenagers who start fighting over the syringes. Hotel security comes in and all the teenagers and my friend rush out the sliding glass door and hop over the balcony. Hotel security follows.

Last thing I see before waking up is a group of teenagers running, hotel security in pursuit of them, and a trail of fully loaded syringe bags.

I love the mountains when they have clouds rolling over them like a crashing wave. It’s as though they couldn’t hold they clouds up and so the clouds draped over them like a heavy burden. The way the clouds hang over the mountain is how diabetes feels hanging over me.

Diabetes can be a heavy burden on so many levels. There’s the management side of it, the striving for unobtainable perfection. The burden of self care necessary to avoid complications of diabetes is huge. Then there’s the economic burden of it, trying to pay for everything required to have immaculate self care so that I can avoid the complications (you see how this is all tying in). Lastly is the burden of the complications of diabetes that were attained because I didn’t feel like taking care of the diabetes for the first 15 years I had it (make note that I’ve only had it 17 years).

Yes, the burden of complications. Or more relevant to me is the burden of impending complications, the yet to be proven complications. Or one complication in particular: gastroparesis. I’ve had “gastroparesis” hanging over my head since my appointment with my PCP in December and it’s been unfun. Or not fun. How about intolerable. It’s there but it’s not. I’ve got this thing, this problem where it hurts to eat. Where I get nauseous if I eat. Where it feels best if I vomit after eating. Where it really is easier to just not eat. It brings me to tears, the emotionalism of it, but also the pain of it, the physical pain it causes.

The confirmation of gastroparesis has been looming over me like the cloud on the mountain and tomorrow I finally have an appointment to get the ball rolling so that I can know if gastroparesis is something that I have to worry about or if by the grace of God an ulcer has been causing me all this trouble. (Because you know, an ulcer would be ideal, it’s curable.)

I wanted to go cycling today. I wanted to take the first ride of 2010. The sun was shining and it wasn’t too cold (mid 30s).

I went to my friend’s house to grab my cycling jersey and jacket. In the process of getting ready to walk out the door I had a thought that made me open my mouth. I opened my mouth in the area of me exercising with no food in my system, without having been able to keep much food in my system since the week of Christmas. The conversation didn’t go well. But I talk to this friend because I know she cares, I know she’ll tell me the truth, and when I asked, as painful as it was, I know that she’ll keep on me for what I have to do.

She straight up called me stupid for wanting to ride with no energy stores. She told me how riding was going to not help my muscles but injure them further (they’re already dissipating).

My stomach issues are a problem, a big problem, they’re a problem in my daily life where I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to keep the food I eat in my system and they’re a problem in my sporting life where really I have no energy to really be out there doing anything.

Had I not talked with my friend I would’ve gone riding today and I know without a doubt that I wouldn’t have made it through my 30 miles that I had planned on riding. It was a chore this morning to even get my bike into my car. As I was loading the bike my dad asked if I was okay because I didn’t look good. My response to him was that I’m broken and if I can’t start eating like a normal human that I was going to wither away.

I’ve been miserable and today the miserableness got worse as I sat on the floor and cried because it was unsmart to go ride my bike. I looked down the other week and wondered who’s legs were attached to my body because they’d lost their muscle mass. I thought that no matter how I felt if I could just get out there and run/cycle do whatever that the muscle would have to come back. I thought that if I just got out there I could do it, do anything. The other day I went running and it tore me apart. The next day I went snowshoeing and it tore me down more. Crazy intense exhaustion has set in, I don’t have energy to do much. But the unsmart person in me will get out there and do it.

And so today, I asked something that I hated to ask. I asked my friend to keep on me. To keep on me for whatever it was going to take to fix my stomach. When she asked for boundaries I said I wasn’t giving her any. It’s going to be hard and trying, but I don’t have time for this nonsense with my stomach. I already hate what I have to do.

Food as I know it has become non-existent as of today. And I love food so the death of it is sad. Very sad. No more chai lattes on a whim from StarBucks. No more double meat, double cheese, Italian BMT on wheat with lettuce tomato and chipolte southwest dressing from Subway. No more lunch meat before bed. No more anything that’s normal to my life where food is concerned, or drinks for that matter. NO MORE MOUNTAIN DEW!!! *sniff*

My current diet now consists of berry smoothies, with no milk or yogurt, no added sugar, just frozen berries and either water or orange juice. If I get a low blood sugar orange juice is the remedy. If I feel the need to chew on something raw almonds (not salted) are my treat. Almonds cannot be eaten in conjunction with the smoothies. Veggies are a go, but more of the stuff like spinach, cauliflower, broccoli, cucumber, avocado, celery as opposed to the good veggies like carrots. The hours I don’t eat I’ll be drinking some slippery elm because it coats the stomach.

The thought of this makes me cry, but I’m tired of the stomach problems I’ve had over the past month and I really need to get healthy so that I can cycle. Tomorrow I call my doctor to see about an appointment to get my stomach scoped. I’ll also be calling a natural doctor, the doctor my friend went to when she had her stomach problems.

The smile pockets a rattling controversy.

i have a lot to write about…

Due to a number of things, with diabetes at the top of the list, I’m now seeing a counselor. That’s something that I’ve avoided almost successfully during my 16 year (and still going) career with diabetes. My opinion of counselors is dimly lit. Quite frankly, I’ve always thought there was nothing they could do to help me. And, quite frankly, for the most part, I still agree. To me, they’re a waste of time and money. I have my opinions and anyone that knows me knows that changing my opinions doesn’t happen easily.

My opinion of my counselor after the first time I saw her was “I’m paying for a friend I don’t want. I’m paying to have someone listen to me and tell me what they think. That’s what friends do. I’m paying to hash out things I’ve been hashing out for years with my parents and FRIENDS.”

I told her that at my last appointment. Her response was “I’m not a friend” (well duh, i’m paying for you, I don’t pay for my friends, it’s an analogy, but I didn’t tell her that.) “I’m a trained observer” (at which point, my thought was, and I’m the monkey, but I didn’t tell her that either.) “My job is to give you objective insight of what you’re telling me. I’m an outside source looking in. I’m have no relations to your situation.” (do you see the window she’s peering through, with her hands up to it because of the glare?).

Things progress and we get to a point where I said something and the next thing I know, we’re talking about perception. That momentarily sent my head into a course of “God Shaped Hole” by Plumb.

*sings* Every point of view has another angle. And every angle has its merit *end singing*

Yes, perception. How we understand stuff. What we see stuff as. Perception.

My perception of diabetes is grave. I think that it has destroyed my life. I don’t live with it. I’m surviving with it. (barely, sometimes.) I’ve had this perception since a few months after I was diagnosed when my childhood was drastically changed by a doctor’s note that excused me from gym class because a short time on the field would put me in the nurses office for a couple of hours to treat low blood sugars. That’s where it all began, the perception that diabetes destroyed my life.

And what would cause me to change that perception when I was little…nothing…there was no reason to. Diabetes had taken away my right to go to gym class. That was 5th grade. Now we go to 7th grade, when because of my diabetes I couldn’t go on orchestra trips. And then 9th grade when I couldn’t even be in orchestra because I couldn’t go on orchestra trips. Because those trips were competitions and training for those competitions was what class was about. I’d get an automatic C- if I didn’t go to the competitions. I was a straight A student. I made the decision to not be in orchestra because a C wasn’t good enough. Another perception, but that one is fed by parents, schools, and universities, grades matter.

The summer before 8th grade I took my first vacation from diabetes. 3 months without checking my blood or taking shots. The reasoning there, the evil step mother that wanted to watch me do everything and make sure that I was doing it right. I’d had diabetes for 2 years at this point. This is where my rebellion against diabetes began. But why would I want to take care of my diabetes if I couldn’t do the things I wanted; was my reasoning, in many cases it’s still my reasoning today.

I can’t say whether or not anything was done to change my perception when I gained my ill fated vision of what diabetes was going to be in my life. I was a bullheaded pre-teen when I was diagnosed with diabetes. I was a bullheaded teen when my rebellion against diabetes began. And I’m a bullheaded upper 20 somethings year old now that still thinks diabetes is the devil; that nothing good is going to come from it.

I have a bad perception of diabetes and though I’ve been trying to change it since March 2007 it’s not an easy thing to do. I’ve been on this train of thought about diabetes for the better part of 16 years. And on more days than not, diabetes still frustrates me to the point where I’m still yelling about how much I HATE, VEHEMENTLY HATE IT!

That’s one perception that’s not going to go away. It’s not like broccoli. That veggie that I’ve hated since I was 6. I’ve grown to re-like it. Diabetes isn’t the broccoli in my life. There will be no like…hopefully though, while I’m still waiting for a cure, one day there will be a day where I don’t think that it’s destroyed my life…but again…perception…it’s not easy to change.

It’s been 2 weeks since my first marathon, and I must say that all the aches and pains that caused me to say that I’d never ever ever do a marathon again have left me.

A week ago I was beginning to think that I’d like to do another marathon.

A week ago I was also sitting in the doctor’s office praying that my foot didn’t have a stress fracture. There was pain and swelling, but the pain only came when I walked and the swelling accompanied the walking. What can I say, I needed to walk, my poor muscles weren’t going to move if I didn’t. Luckily for me, there was no bruising and that ruled out stress fracture but it didn’t rule out the severely pulled peroneus longus tendon that goes from the top of my foot and kindof wraps itself around that boney ball on the side of my foot and then up the ankle.

A week ago, I was barely walking.

This week, I’m ready to go running again, or cycling at a minimum. There’s no more pain or swelling and that is a massive temptation for me to automatically break the 1 month of healing rule that was placed before me during that doctor’s visit.

This week I’m also sure I’d like to do another marathon.

I’ve got 3 more weeks to go before I can resume normal activity, and I’m itching to to resume normal activity.