4.20.2007

Words

I've spent a lot of time this week trying to find words. Words to describe how I feel about what happened at Virginia Tech. Words that might answer my son who, after watching his teacher break down and cry after her Hokie freshman son finally checked in on Monday, came home from school and quietly asked me, "why would someone do that?" Words to put the whole event in perspective.

I find myself coming up short.

When something horrible happens in life, it seems natural to talk about it. To speak it out loud, to label it and chew it over and talk it until it becomes less horrible. Less shocking. Sorting out the words has always meant moving on.

This week, though, as I ached for our neighbors here in Virginia, words failed me. Like the silent, shocked students that filled the auditorium on Tuesday, I've been eerily quiet. I cannot wrap my head - and consequently my words - around these events.

Because I cannot come up with the words, I fall back on what others have said. And the phrase that has haunted me of late is an old one, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

I believe that to be true, and never more so than now. Today, when we live at a constant state of heightened awareness - interspersed with lulls that are invariably shattered by tragedy somewhere near or far, we live in fear. Not a day goes by that I don't fear for my children, my loved ones, my friends. And for me, the problem with fear is that putting it into words only makes it more real.

Pause for a moment at noon today in support of the families who lost a loved one on Monday. Pause, also, for all those whose lives are purposefully taken each day.

4.12.2007

Funnel Cake

It's spring break here in VA, so I took the boys to Williamsburg for a few days while their dad was away on business. A little fun, a little history, and two nights in a hotel with an indoor pool (which is Ryan's favorite thing to do).

We were a little harried on our way out the door, what with a last minute rush to find gameboys, but I managed to pack everything I needed for the trip. I have a travel case of pump supplies that I just throw in my suitcase, so I was all set, diabetes-wise.

Our first day was spent at Busch Gardens, with friends. The big joke with me and amusement parks is that I only go for the funnel cake. I hate rides. I'm afraid of heights, I get motion sick, and I'm not a fan of going fast. I did enjoy the tram ride from the parking lot to the front gate, though!

Busch Gardens has two funnel cake stands, one in "Germany" and one near the front gate. My plan was to walk the heck out of the park and reward myself with one tasty treat on our way out. A good plan.

Except I arrived at the park with enough insulin in my pump to cover lunch and basals for the day. I had a vial of insulin with me, but nothing to use to extricate it from the vial. My backup syringe and extra sets were in the hotel.

Even with all the walking, there wasn't enough insulin to spare. Had it been a pump emergency, I would have borrowed my friends' van and scooted back to the hotel to refill. But funnel cake doesn't qualify as an emergency.

And by the way, friends, funnel cake is not fried dough. Funnel cake is way better. Trust me.

4.06.2007

The Burns Question

My brother was a volunteer firefighter in our hometown for many years. He once told me a story about a man who drove through three consecutive red lights, causing accidents at each light, yet continuing on. At the third light, his car finally came to a stop, and the largely-volunteer fire and rescue squad found themselves treating the injured at three simultanous accident scenes.

They were, understandably, absolutely livid with the driver. It was just after lunch on a pleasant Friday afternoon, and he was completely loopy. Uninjured and seemingly unaware of the havoc he'd just caused, the driver was assumed to be drunk.

Once they got close enough to the driver, someone spotted his medical ID, and they realized he was not a drunken asshole, but a man with diabetes who needed assistance. Until that moment, though, he was the person responsible for causing three accidents and injuring several other people. He was a man in control of a half ton vehicle, with the potential to take off and cause further harm.

I thought of this story as I read Doug Burns' tale earlier this week.

I thought about the fact that I hang out with people with diabetes - and have for over twenty years now - and I've only ever actually seen one truly combative insulin reaction. I've seen blank looks on faces, quiet people who are overly-giddy, and chatty people who are unusually quiet. But I've never felt threatened by someone having a low blood sugar. And that's not because I know diabetes and understand lows, that's because its a pretty rare experience.

I would guess that the security guard at a movie theater has seen hundreds of drunk and/or high people stroll into his theater. And I imagine that the police officers who responded to the theater's call for help were pre-disposed to think that the man trying to re-gain entrance to the theater was, in fact, strung out. Regardless of what he was wearing, or how 'normal' he looked. Their reality - the experience and training of police and security personnel - led them to respond in the manner that they did.

It's horrible that things panned out that way. If only Burns had known that the new diabetes drug (symlin, I'm guessing?) could possibly cause a more severe low, and packed extra glucose before leaving the house. If only the security guard had thought "this man needs help" before he thought "this guy's drunk". If only the officers had spotted the medical ID bracelet sooner. Perhaps then, things would have played out differently.

Was Burns a threat? Was it reasonable that, until the ID bracelet and wallet info was uncovered, the officers perceived him as a threat? He wasn't just lying on the ground, semi-conscious, he was trying to get back into the theater. The officers, who will see a thousand drunks for every one combative hypoglycemic person they encounter, had to make decisions, and quickly.

If I'd been there with my kids, and a muscular, combative, apparently intoxicated man was trying to gain access to the theater, would I have been afraid for us? Maybe. I'd like to think I would have given him the benefit of the doubt, but I'll never really know for sure.

If there is work to be done, I think it should focus on everything that happened after the moment the EMTs identified Burns as having diabetes. A mistake was made, one that could theoretically have been avoided. But there's nothing theoretical about the ignorance and foolishness that followed. Start with "Sorry", officers, and know enough about diabetes to realize that Burns' actions were beyond his control, and that he meant no harm.

4.04.2007

Succo d'arrancia

I'm beginning to gather the things I'll need for my upcoming trip to Rome. Jake and I will be spending a little less than a week touring the city, along with my parents and a small group of adults. This trip was Jake's idea actually. He studied Ancient Rome, Greece, and China last year and wants to visit all three. Did I mention he's only nine??

I found key diabetes phrases in Italian, so I am prepared to ask for help, a doctor, and/or orange juice if needed. My favorite is "Devo mangiare qualcosa adesso a causa del mio diabete" which means "I must eat something now because of my diabetes". Here's hoping I don't have to use it!

I also found a wonderful list of Italian phrases that relate to food allergies. This will come in handy because Ho un'allergia impersensibilta a crostacei (I am allergic to shell fish). I've noted gambero, aragosta e granchio (shrimp, lobster, and crab) so that I can avoid them when ordering food.

I've requested letters detailing my need to carry syringes, lancets, pump supplies, insulin, dexcom insertion devices, and an epi-pen.

I even have a notorized letter from my husband affirming that I can travel outside of the country with our child.

The only glaring unchecked box on my to-do list is my passport. Yes folks, the US Government is messing with my head. We applied in January (at the beginning of the great rush for passports) and after a few weeks, I noticed that I could see the boys' passports in the online tracking system, but mine was not there. I called and navigated the ridiculous phone prompt system and learned that I was in the system, but with a mispelled last name (Gregono instead of Gregorio). "Karen" assured me the error was caught in time. "Karen" was wrong.

I received the erroneous passport in early March and spent... oh... several hours trying to figure out the conflicting correction advice online and on the printed form. Just to make things interesting, the passport people revamped their website in early March. So the path that I followed to get information one day was completely different the next. I kid you not.

Mailed off the passport, correction form, proof of name, and letter with travel dates on 3/17.

No sign of it yet.

And now... now the passport people won't even speak with you on the phone unless you have tickets for travel within 14 days.

So Monday morning, 7 AM, I'll start calling in hopes of figuring out where my passport is (though I know it was signed for) and what to do next.

The silver lining in all this is that my second set of passport photos (yes, I had to have them retaken. And pay for it) was way better than the first.

Once that is all sorted out, I think I'll be able to start getting excited! And I'll start working on carb counts for gelato...