Monday, September 26, 2016

Diabetes Brain - 2016 Fall Edition~

Diabetes always has a way of creeping into other areas of my life like a weird word association game. Sometimes funny, sometimes not at all. Sometimes it makes no sense, other times, Diabetes Brain makes perfect sense. Also, I'm weird. 

1. Went to check the daily totals on my insulin pump this morning, instead I reached for my iPhone and punched in my security code, then sat there looking at the screen for 10 seconds before I realized I’d picked up the wrong device. TRUE STORY.

2. Whenever I look at food posts on Instagram and Pinterest, I immediately wonder the carb count, then I start calculating the carbs. 
Then I start to wonder about the fiber count and then I go down the diabetes, food pretty pictures, and fictional verses non fictional carb, rabbit hole.

3.Speaking of food. I recently realized I haven’t bought orange juice in years. 
Yep, totally D related and having to do with hitting the Orange Juice Wall when it comes to treating lows.

4. When I check into hotel rooms I automatically put my diabetes low stash on the nightstand. 

5. Sometimes when I’m in the middle of a conversation and fiddling with my insulin pump near a table or a counter, I check my pump, place it on said table or counter, and then go back to the conversation. 
And 9 times out of 10, when the conversation is over or I need to grab something from another room, I walk away and bungipumping ensues. 

6. Random but true: I kid you not, I cannot remember the last time I drank beer. 
Beer requires too much math so I stick to wine or vodka with club.

7. Lately I’ve started to throw out my used test strip as soon as I’m done with it. WEIRD. 

8. Sherlocking diabetes on the TV. 
Watched a rerun of Rizzoli & Isles a few weeks ago, even though I’d seen it before.
 It was an interesting episode because the murder victim had diabetes. 
D was not the COD, but the murder had an intimate knowledge of D
And even though I’d watched it before, I still felt let down when it became clear that the writers of R&I tried, but didn’t quite succeed re: diabetes reality as a plot line. 
Still, it was a good attempt. The episode didn't spread D myths or falsehoods, but they were off re: the actualities of living with diabetes. 
Seriously, what 30 something D adult female carries a log book and takes copious notes re: food and blood sugars every time she pricks her finger?  OR am I projecting? 
Also and spoiler alert: If someone secretly replaced the insulin in my pump with something other than insulin, I would have known something was up because I would have felt like shit because of high blood sugars and all that goes with them. 
Also, if doesn't smell like band-aids or scotch - it ain't insulin.
I would have tossed out the insulin in my pump - and I would have been correcting with injections after I switched out my reservoir. 
UNLESS....  what if hypothetically, R&I's victim ( a PWD, even though she's completely made up fictional character in a fictional television show, I'm still compelled to get into her PWD head,) was worried about throwing out the insulin/insulin imposter because insulin is so f*v$ing expensive? 
And now I'm down the diabetes as a plot-line, rabbit hole!

9. Speaking of insulin, the price of insulin and diabetes related supplies and costs keeps me up at night. This is nothing new nor is it even slightly amusing. 
It’s scary and it’s real and I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. 

10. Re: Smart insulins , (aka insulin with a brain) is on the horizon for those us who require insulin to live - and that's great - I'm all for having access, using and utilizing smarter, faster, insulin. 
But I struggle to pay for the "dumb insulins" that available to us now, so how the hell will I be able to afford the smart ones? 

Thursday, September 22, 2016

#TBT: Diabetes Life And Calling All Midvale Alum ~

Originally posted the following on 2.14.08, back when the blog was all sorts of new. 
As of late my life has been a series of occurrences right out of The Far Side cartoons and captions in real life, so I thought I'd revisit this post - Hope you dig.

OK - favorite"Far Side" pic ever!

The above carton reminds of me of this life of mine. 

While I'm an excellent dancer when the music is on, I'm a bit clumsy in real life...on occasion. Sometimes the blatantly obvious, is not so very for those of us who are Midvale alum.

For instance.....I've actually put my my pump battery in backwards and then wondered why "the damn thing wouldn't work!"

I've walked into, and almost through a screen door - with coffee in hand. No damage to the screen, but I ended up wearing my coffee.

I've put my test strip in the machine upside down and then wondered where the area was to place my drop of blood.

Once, in High School when I was deep in conversation with my 3 best buds, I actually walked smack into Stop sign because I was enthralled over my friends latest escapades, I looked at them instead of looking ahead. I don't know which hurt more, my head or my pride.

I used to give my insulin
 shots through my clothes to save time - andto secretly impress my friends. Of course, only when I was wearing white or some other light color, would a drop of blood decide to appear. Ironically it never once happened when I was wearing black, purple, or blue.

We all know about pump tubing and doorknobs. It's a global issue, nuff said.

I won't even tell you how I broke my arm a few years ago. Let's just say it involved preventing
 a cordless phone from falling down a flight of 16 steps - by blocking its descent at the top of the stairs,
I inadvertently caused myself to fall and ended up at the bottom.

We all push when we should pull at times, but we learn and move forward just the same.
It's very similar to dealing with our Diabetes. Just when we think we know it all about this disease, it throws us curve ball or two, forcing us to learn yet another set of rules regarding the Big D.
And we do, because we can....And because we must.

Monday, September 19, 2016

Fingers Crossed

I lift up my shirt and poke a round my abdomen with my finger - making sure the spot I eventually choose for my site change will be free of lumps, bumps, marks, redness and any weird tender to the touch. 
Real estate is slim on my belly and I must choose wisely. 
I find a spot that looks and feels right, grab the skin and slide the needle of the cannula in. 
This morning’s 11a.m. site change went in easy and as it did, I let out a sigh of relief. 

Sidebar: Sometimes I don’t realize how much and or often I hold my breath when it comes to diabetes related things, until I actually stop holding my breath. 

I filled filled the cannula and silently said, “fingers crossed,” - and then I tweeted that thought because I know I’m not the only one.  
Now all I can do was wait to see if it took. 
After 3 days of a damn near perfect site - this new site could work, suck at sucking up insulin, or be some strange hybrid of working and not all rolled into one. - what I like to refer to as a zombie infusion site. 

I’ve been considering (and by considering I mean that I keep telling myself that I really should and then completely ignoring what I said,) attempting an infusion site in my arm - the thought of tangled tubing makes me wince at the thought - but diabetes requires us to be brave and try new things because we must - and an arm infusion site is on the docket in the next few weeks, (first week in October,) like it or not. 

Current #Bgnow as of two seconds ago 180 - not terrible after a breakfast of lots of fresh pineapple,(pineapple tends to make me go higher in the mornings but I couldn’t resist,) eggs and 2 cups of coffee, and a site change mid morning. 
And so far so good, for now.~

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

PLEASE Talk With Your Children About The Choking Game

This post has nothing to do with diabetes.
This post is about an 11 year old boy named Garrett Pope Jr. - Garrett was my cousin’s grandson and my second cousin’s son - which makes Garrett my cousin, twice removed.
Last week Garrett lost his life to "The Choking Game," a deadly game where children and teens cut off their airwaves to get to the point where they reach euphoria. 
This game has been around for decades and I remember hearing about it when I was in middle school.
Garrett's father posted what happened to his oldest son on The Concerned Citizens of Indian Land’s facebook page , and his heartfelt words (which I've cut and pasted below,) have gone viral via social media and news channels. 

I'm sharing what happened because I don't want it to happen to anyone else.

Please read Garrett Sr's powerful words, learn from them, and have a discussion with your children so that this tragedy won’t happen to another family - and encourage everyone you know to do the same.
Please share Garrett’s story with your friends and family, you will save lives and prevent much heartache in the process.
Garrett, first Day of 6th Grade.
“My name is Garrett Pope, and I’m the father of the 11 year old boy, Garrett Jr., who passed away tragically this past Wednesday. He was our oldest son, a 6th grade student at the middle school, had just started to play football on Tuesday night, wanted to go to Clemson, was funny, smart, and an amazing son to us and brother to his siblings. I know that there are a lot of rumors out there at to what happened, and my family would like to share some words of caution. The Lancaster County Coroners office has determined that this was an accidental death caused by him playing something called “The Choking Game”. It is where kids cut off their airwaves just enough to get a sense of euphoria. I’m including a link here for more information.
We do not know where Garrett learned this, but the logical source would be from other kids in school, or in our neighborhood. Our tablets and computers show no online research that he might have done. I’ve spoken to the principle about making sure that teachers are aware of this “game”. I work in the media industry, and local news outlets will be following up with more widespread coverage. Please know that his senseless death was not intentional. He took this terrible “game” too far. My family has never felt pain like this before, and we don’t anyone else to go through what we are going through. Please talk about this with your kids, and do everything you can to prevent a similar tragedy. He was so young and impressionable, he didn’t know what he was doing, and made a terrible mistake.
We miss him.” 

To read more about Garrett, click HEREHERE and HERE

AGoFundMe page has been set up in Garrett’s honor and all contributions will go towards something truly beautiful and lasting. 

Garrett loved to read and all donations to his GoFundMePage page will go to the Indian Land Elementary and Middle Schools to further develop their schools reading programs. 

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Diabetes, Family History And The Stress Of A Stress Test

 An insider look at what went on in my head before, during, and after my stress test.  
It’s also a great primer on using your words wisely as HealthCare Professional. 
I didn’t sleep well the night before my stress test. 
Nerves, combined with the third day of out of the blue, higher than normal blood sugars resulting in copious amounts of insulin, especially in the evening, followed by 3 am crashes, did not make for being well rested. 

I was tired as I drove the 45 minutes to the cardiologist's office - I'd never been to the practice's Satellite office and Siri did an excellent job of getting me there. 
I arrived 10 minutes early and tried to relax by taking deep breaths and watching Family Feud that was on the big screen TV in the lobby. 
25 minutes later the nurse came to get me. She apologized for the wait and told me that it was her first day at this branch. 
“That’s Ok, me too. We’ll figure it out together,” I said. 

We walked into the exam room filled with a treadmill and monitors and I immediately recognized the Technician who would be administering the stress test. 
It was Eastern European Dude, the same guy who had administered my stress test back back in 2012. 
I totally remembered him. I also remembered flipping out so bad from the fear of the what ifs that my sister had to calm me down so I wouldn’t burst into tears. 
When you have a crap family history combined with a chronic illness, it’s easy to let the what ifs drive you crazy - and I almost had. 

Of course I didn’t remind him of that - I just smiled and said hello. 
The nurse draws back the curtains in the room, tells me undress from the waist up and hands me a blue gown and says “flaps in the front,” and closes the curtain. 
I hate this part - I hate that I have to be partially naked and totally exposed in front of 3 strangers for a test that scares the fuck out of me.
My nerves are making me breath deeper and I tell her I’m ready. 
She opens the curtain, steps in and closes again. 
She puts foul smelling gelatinous gel on my chest that will help the  sticky part of the leeds, stick and stay. 
We walk over to the treadmill and I stand on it. 

We go over my impressive family history and the nurse clips a heavy belt around my waist and plugs the leeds from chest into the belt. Then she gingerly clips my insulin pump onto the belt so I would have to take it off. 
She explains the Stress Test.
3 minute increments of speed and varying inclines on the treadmill, starting out low and slow and reaching speeds of fast and on an incline. 
My blood pressure and heart rate will continue to be monitored the whole time. 
When the treadmill stops - they will literally throw me on a table and Eastern European Eastern European Dude have less than 2 minutes to get images of my heart and its chambers.
Those images will tell us if my heart is healthy and if there are any blockages around the heart. 
She finishes by telling me that if I feel anything that doesn’t feel right, I am to press the red button and we will stop immediately. 
I think back to 2012,  I was on there for about 16 minutes, the last few minutes I was running the treadmill at top speed and at an incline of 13 - everyone in the room was telling me how great I was doing and that my heart was as strong as a horse. 

4 years later and I wonder what will happen this time.

Yep, I know the drill. 

I think of my father and his brothers - skinny men with skinny legs and blocked arteries. 
I think of my mother - a scarlet fever baby with a damaged heart muscle, who became a Pro skater and mother of 6 - all with an arrhythmic heart that beat to it's own drum.
I think of her mother who died from heart issues and her father, a lumberjack who owned the mill and had a heart attack in the snow on Christmas Day and refused to die. 
Instead, he crawled for 2 miles in the snow until he got to his competitors camp. 
They snowmobiled him to the hospital and he lived another 35 years. 
I think of other family members.

I remind myself that I come from strong stock and that knowledge is power. 
I stand on the treadmill, both hands on the bar and practice my yoga breathing. 
I watch my heart rate on the monitor and the numbers keep going between 88 beats per minute and 104. 
My nerves are fucking with me big time now. 
I close my eyes and think of ocean waves and breathing with their ebb and flow. 
Dr. X walks in with a smile on his face - and immediately says: Hi, I’m Dr. O andmygoodness you’re too young for this test! 
My eyes flicker to the monitor screen and my heart rate jumps to 106 beats per minute and my yoga breathing goes out the window. 

I want to scream at him for saying that because I’m stressed enough and his words are making things worse. 
But I can't because it's a fucking stress test.
Instead I take a deep breath, smile and tell him that I have shitty family history and that my cardiologist likes to have an updated road map of my heart so I can remain healthy.
I try my best not to shed a tear, but I feel my face turning red. 
Then I tell him I have WhiteCoat Syndrome and that he should be prepared
Dr. X takes my blood pressure and says: I see that. 

I can tell he knows that he made a mistake. 
He’s a nice guy and he’s trying to make things right. He asks me about my summer and asks me if I've been to the beach. I tell him that I love to swim and body surf and he seems impressed.
He asks me how the waves have been and I mention storms brewing in the the Atlantic. 
Then he tells that my numbers are going to go up during this test - which is what they are supposed to do and not to worry. 

The test starts and I walk the treadmill and I try and think about the ocean because it makes me calm.
 For some reason I keep breathing heavy - and it's unusual and weird and it makes me worry. 
Dr. X asks me if I always breathe deep like that when I work out.
I tell him no - and I tell him that I'm scared. 
He tells me he 'gets it, and that it’s my nerves and that I’m doing great. 
We talk about exercise and the heatwave and I tell him my workout schedule has been shitty.
“Everyones has,” he says and tells me not to worry. 
The incline goes up and I go faster - not at a running pace yet, but close. 
I want to run. I want to run off the treadmill, out of the exam and run as far away as humanly possible.
But knowledge is power, even if obtaining that knowledge is stressful and scary. 

9 minutes in they give me a 30 second STOP warning. 
30 seconds later, the treadmill stops, I lie on the exam table next to the treadmill and turn on my left side and with my left arm up.
Eastern European Dude jumps on top of me puts something cold under my left breast and tells me to take a deep breath and hold my breath. 
I do. 
“Now release, then take another deep breath, let a little out and hold!” 
And I do. 
And then I do it again, and again, and again, and again, and again. 

Then it’s over. 

I sit up on the table and mutter to myself, “you're not even going to buy me dinner?”
The Dr stand in front of me tells me that all is well, that everything looks great. 
My heart is strong - no blockages. 
He points out the my blood pressure is decreasing at a great rate and is now lower than before the test.

“Are you sure? Then why didn’t I get to run this time?
He explains that my graphs were great and that the info they were giving was just what that wanted -  and that my leeds were close to giving feedback (not the good kind, the kind that would make us start the test all over again,) so they stopped. 
“Also, your nerves made your blood pressure on the high side - which happens - so we stopped. You’re great and you did great. I’ll write up your report, send it to your Cardiologist and you’ll get a copy too. You're OK, Kel.” 

I get ready to leave, say my goodbyes and sit in the lobby and answer 3 text messages and some emails. I’m calm now. I’m good. I am A-OK. 

I get up from my seat, walk through the automatic doors of the building and into to the sun. My eyes start to tear and I try to not Oprah ugly cry it, in the parking lot. 

I am good, all is fucking fantastic, I am luckier than many and I know it. 

But the staying well, the being strong and the what ifs of it all, have gotten to me as of late and right now they are hard to shake. 
I sit my car and breathe deep - and just as I put my keys in the ignition, I hear the Dr’s voice in my head saying; “Ohmygoodness, you’re too young to be here.” 

And I respond  out loud to the voice in my head like I'd wanted to respond in the room. 
“I am here because I want to stay healthy.
I am here because I have a shitty family history and type 1 diabetes and I’ve been working my damnedest to stay healthy.
I am here and you're a nice guy and you seem like a good Doctor, but you need to work on your greeting, because right now you made my heart rate increase and God only knows what you’re doing to my blood pressure.
I am here because I want to stay healthy, so please watch what you say and help me do that.” 

And then I drive home, but stop halfway tand dictate a version of this post onto my phone's voice recorder. 
 I had let it all out before I could let it go and continue on my journey

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Slate.Com : With Diabetes, "Even" Little Words Matter

This post started out as a post about the disgusting Mylan epi-pen price increase and how it mirrors the insulin prices increases, but then it turned into an article about’s diabetes headline from yesterday, because the word "even" in the article title rubs me the wrong way.

I’m still working on the epi-pen article - and neither post is an Insulin verses Epi-pen article. Nope - both diseases are life threatening, both medications save lives and both price increases are appalling and I'm enraged at the eli pen price increase. 
Today’s post is about words - specifically the word “EVEN.” 
And how even little words can negate a price increase and add to diabetes stigma. 
Yesterday, ran an article with the headline: Good Lord, Even The Price of Insulin Is Skyrocketing.

Yep Slate, this is nothing new. 
The price of insulin has been skyrocketing for years -I now pay more for insulin than I did back in 1997 and more than my parents did when I was diagnosed way back in 1977. 
 Insulin is also a life saving drug, but nobody except those living with diabetes seems to care about the continual price increases. 

The Diabetes Online Community has been writing about about the high cost of diabetes for years - including the ridiculousness that is the ever increasing cost of insulins. 
Check out HERE, HERE, and HERE for a small sample of DOC voices on the subject.
Recently, the DOC has rallied behind #diabetesaccessmatters, because you bet your sweet ass it does.

Thank you, thank-you, thank-you  for featuring the insulin price increases in your publication. 
But,and of course there's a but. 
BUT what's with using the word "even" in your title? 
Using the word “even” in your title re: skyrocketing insulin prices detracts from the impact that those stratospheric price increases have on every single person living with diabetes who struggle to pay those skyrocketing prices in order to stay alive. 
Sidebar: You might say semantics, but not just my POV, btw. 

The word “even” lessens the struggle that millions of people living with diabetes are going through daily in order to pay for the insulin they/we require order to live. 
Diabetes is not cheap - and today it's more expensive than ever.

Wuestion: Would you have used the word “even,” to describe price increases for diseases such as crohn’s, life threatening allergies, or cancers? 
Nope, I don’t believe you would, so why is OK to use that word and in that context when describing the price increase of drugs for a group of diseases (type 1 diabetes, type 1.5, type 2 diabetes,) that millions and millions of people live with?

Not OK and here’s why. 
  1. By using the word “even,” you’re subconsciously adding to diabetes shaming and adding to the stigma associated with diabetes
Being diagnosed with diabetes is often perceived as a character flaw, so maybe for some people reading your article, it might be considered OK for those of us who need insulin to stay alive, to pay a little more. 
It’s not OK.
Diabetes is not a character flaw - diabetes is hard fucking work and I haven’t had a vacation from my t1 diabetes in well over 3 decades. 
I’ve lived with diabetes longer than I haven't and diabetes accompanied me from third grade until I graduated from college and every day since. 
Diabetes was with me as I watched my favorite sister get married, went with me on my first date, stumble along side me through my first sexual experience and every one since. 
Diabetes has been my traveling companion to a dozen countries and at least 15 states. 

 Diabetes has made the move with me to different states; stood by me as I buried both my parents, discovered the Diabetes Online Community, and sat in the third row with me when my niece made her Broadway debut.
Type 1 Diabetes took the life of my older sister Debbie and broke my parents heart in the process. 
Diabetes has made me feel guilty and diabetes has me saying I'm sorry, even when I am anything but. 
Diabetes been the longest relationship I’ve ever had - braking up with diabetes is not an option at this time because there is no cure for my type 1 diabetes. 

Don’t even get me started on Diabetes Burnout!

Speaking of cure, the use of the word “even,” makes my disease seem less cure worthy and in actually, has the potential to lessen funds raised to find the D cure. 

But back to diabetes day to day - and the shear cost of living with diabetes. 
I know people with diabetes (type 1, t1.5, and type 2,) who can’t afford the cost of their insulin, or other medications, test strips, and diabetes durable medical equipment (insulin pumps, CGMs,) and play Russian roulette with their health every month because they’ve either run out of their meds/supplies before their prescriptions are due to be filled.
Or worse, they don’t have insurance and go without out because they’ve run out of money.  
Unfortunately, diabetes is not the same disease every day - some days you require more insulin, some days you require less. Sometimes you need to check your blood sugars 10 times a day, other times 7 will suffice. 
But if you live with diabetes, you're lucky if your insurance will pay for 5 test strips a day. And if you have diabetes and are on medicare - you only get 3 test strips covered per day. 
Did I mention that test strips are the litmus tests that people with diabetes use (as well as CGMS - but that a whole other insurance ball of wax for another post,) use to monitor their blood sugars and measure out their insulin. 
Insulin can kill if you admisister too much or too little - so YES, checking blood sugar is CRUCIAL AND EXPENSIVE.
Speaking of insurance - people with diabetes  (PEOPLE WITH ANY ILLNESS,) spend more time arguing with their insurance company over denials, mistakes, and fighting for lifesaving medications and procedures. 

So Slate, when you use the word “even” in your title, you aren’t doing PWD (people with diabetes,) a favor- because the majority of the public already think it’s our fault we have diabetes.  
Nobody, no matter the diabetes type, deserves to be treated any less than with respect because of their diabetes status. 

If you want more info regarding what it’s really like to live with diabetes, ask the thousands of people in the Diabetes Online Community who will be willing to share what it’s really like to live with diabetes - step by step, deductible by deductible, crazy ass high co-pay by co-pay. 

Lastly Slate, you’re a HUGE publication and online presence - and a great one.
I read your site daily and I learn and laugh from your posts. 
 Your words, even small ones have power, so please use them wisely. 

Monday, August 22, 2016

Life and Diabetes Hacks - AKA, Chilled Sharpie Marker FTW & My Sanity

I’ve been tweeking things up as of late in life and life with diabetes  - and by “tweeking,” of course I'm talking about life hacks. 
Nothing crazy, but still - little changes = big ones. 

Chilled Sharpie Marker FTW & My Sanity
I’ve started keeping a Sharpie Marker in the fridge, on the shelf where I keep my insulin. 
That way every time I start a new insulin bottle I can mark the date the bottle was started on the bottle and the box - no more wondering when said bottle was opened, or not being able to remember which insulin was the one that was temporarily lost in the fridge and required opening a new one, and not being able to remember what was which, when the lost bottle was found.  
**I also keep spare insulin reservoirs and a couple needles in the fridge because it saves me some extra steps. I can fill up my insulin reservoir while standing at my fridge. Sanity saving for sure.

Switching from Juice Boxes To Cute Little Juice Cans
I recently switched from juice-boxes to aluminum bottles of Dole© Pineapple juice cans - and keep 2 by my bed - just in case. 
The reason for the switch was easy. 
One day I went to the local grocery store and they were out of my favorite juice-boxes. Bummer, until I noticed the little Dole©  Pineapple juice cans on the bottom shelf.
  1. They cost the same price as juice bottles
  2. I think they are recyclable
  3. 6 ounces each with 24 grams of carbs, one usually is all I need to treat a middle of the night low, but YDMV
  4. The cans are more durable (as in they don’t get smashed, especially when I toss one in my bag to go for a workout,) and they remind me of my childhood.
No More Bottled Water For Me
I made the switch to Brita filtered water bottles and Brita filter pitchers quite some time ago and I couldn’t be happier. 
I still feel guilty about all the plastic bottles of water I’ve been responsible for over the years, but at least I’m no longer adding to the problem.
The Brita Sports bottles are 20 ounces, come with their own replaceable water filters and they pay themselves 10 fold. 
I believe mine cost $8.99 each and I cannot remember the last time I purchased bottled water. 
I also have a really nifty Thermos Water Bottle with a flip lid that holds 20+ ounces and allows me to add up the times I refill it via a twisty cap that keeps track. VERY cool and both Brita and Thermos bottles are PBA free. 

Speaking Of Bottled Water And Not Buying It 
I now only buy seltzer water in packages of 12,12 ounce cans.  Soda companies like Coke and Pepsi see the sparkling water marketing growing larger every year and are jumping on it - said companies (and others,) are down sizing the cans in both can size and cans per package, so they can make more money. I won’t purchase from those companies because that’s a crappy thing to do to their customers.  

Back To Filtered Water
I keep a recycled glass 64 ounce milk bottle in the  fridge filled with filtered water because EVERYTHING TASTES BETTER IN GLASS. 

Speaking of Water And Keeping Hydrated 
For as much water as I drink (and I drink freaking tons,) not to mention I moisturize like crazy, my skin is still very dry. 
I think my dry skin has to do with diabetes and being on several different medications to stay healthy. 
I’m trying out some different options and will report back on my findings, so stay tuned~

Breakfast and Morning Snacks Upgrade, Thanks To Summer Fruits and Veggies
Not really change, but still worth sharing. 
Every morning I make a fresh smoothie with frozen blueberries or what every fruit I’ve purchased at the local farmers market and lots of fresh basil and mint and protein powder -it’s yummy quick and easy to bolus for. 
And when I feel like grazing mid morning - I have a kind bar and about  3/4‘s of a cup of sweet yellow grape tomatoes. 
I get almost 2 servings of veggies from those sweet delicious tiny tomatoes and damn if they aren’t tasty!

My Canned Tuna Ah-HA Moment - GAME CHANGER
So back May when I had my surgeries and stayed with my friends for a few days to recover - I discovered something that changed my tuna salad loving, life!
My friends C & D keep their cans of tuna refrigerated,  that way when they make tuna salad, the tuna is already chilled. 
OK, this changed my life because in all of my years, my family NEVER kept canned goods in the fridge - they were always kept in the pantry. 
But over the years whenever I was hangry for a tuna salad, I would grab a can, drain it, throw some horseradish and mayo in (both already chilled,) and never had the patience to let the tuna salad chill - I’d end end up eating it slightly below room temp and some of the magic was gone. 
Now, I always throw the tuna cans right in the fridge - no need to wait for the tuna to chill. 
Tuna salad magic is back and seriously life changing! 

And you have any little life/ diabetes hacks you feel like sharing, that would be cool~