30

Today I turn 30 years old!

What a strange sentence to write, since oftentimes I feel that I am simultaneously much younger and much older than 30. I’ve got a childish sense of humor and a penchant for video games and shirking responsibilities, but I also quite enjoy going to bed early and have my fair share of aches and pains that I complain about almost daily. But in reality, I’m merely entering my third decade of life, and taking my 25 years of diabetes (so far) along with me.

I’m also bringing the following mantra into my thirties: The best is yet to come. That’s because I have an unshaking faith in knowing that I’ll make many of my goals, hopes, and dreams turn into a reality in this decade – I will manifest them into existence, dammit, if that’s what it takes.

In addition to my excitement over this realization, it’s also beginning to dawn on me that this attitude can apply more specifically to my life with diabetes. I’ve seen for myself in the last 25 years just how far we’ve come, in terms of everything from standards of care to technology. How can I not have confidence, then, in the belief that the best is yet to come for myself and all other people living with diabetes? I can say with utmost certainty that the technology will only continue to get better, accessibility barriers will continue to be broken down, affordability will continue to improve, and my own diabetes care and treatment will continue to adapt and advance as time goes on.

So today, rather than mourning the end of my roaring 20s, I’m welcoming my 30s with open arms and the expectation (to riff on the movie 13 Going on 30, in which turning 30 means that one will be 30, flirty, and thriving) that they will be marked by a period of thriving with the knowledge that the best truly is yet to come.

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The First Time I Self-Injected Insulin

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This blog post was originally published on February 9, 2019, on Hugging the Cactus. I’m sharing it again today because it’s a great reminder that trying new things (in terms of both diabetes and life in general) can be scary but definitely worth it. Oh, and that I have a really great dad. Read on for more…

The first time I self-injected insulin, I was absolutely terrified at the mere thought of it.

Since I’ve never really minded needles that much, you’d think that self-injecting would be a cinch for me. That couldn’t be further from the truth, at least for the first few times that I had to do it.

It goes back to one endocrinologist appointment when I was nine, maybe ten years old. My doctor and my parents were talking about how I was reaching an age where I should start to take on a little bit more responsibility in terms of my diabetes care. I don’t remember whether my endo or my parents suggested it, but one of the two parties said that a good starting place would be to start giving myself my own insulin.

Initially, I protested. I hated the idea. But I warmed up to it when my parents reassured me that they would check the syringe for me before I stuck it into my skin. At this point in time, I’d practiced drawing up my own insulin dosages. I’d pass the syringe along to my mother or father for the actual injection. So I had the first step in the process down pat, and it only made sense for me to put two and two together and do it all independently.

Since I was hemming and hawing over the prospect, though, my endo had the brilliant idea to practice on my father with a saline injection right then and there, given that he was willing for me to do it. As he rolled up his sleeve, I grinned wickedly (I was annoyed with him for some trivial reason that day) and waited while my doctor prepared the saline injection. As she brought it over, I panicked a little, and I must’ve asked two or three times whether it was actually safe for me to do this. Because even if I was irritated with him, for whatever stupid thing it was, I didn’t actually want to hurt him.

Once I was adequately assured that the injection would be harmless, I took the syringe into my hand, took a deep breath, and stuck it into my dad’s arm. I remember pushing down on the plunger slowly, and my dad sitting in the chair, totally composed and un-bothered by the sensation. When I took the needle out of his arm, I exhaled loudly, not realizing that I had been holding my breath the whole time. What can I say, it was a nerve-wracking feeling. It’s not every day that you learn how to inject yourself, or someone else for that matter, with a syringe.

Over the course of the next week or two, I practiced my new skill on oranges supplied to me courtesy of my parents. With each practice injection, my confidence grew and I realized that it wasn’t that scary. I would press the orange against my leg or my arm, pinch at its peel, and give it an injection of salt water – super quick, super easy.

In no time at all, I felt brave enough to give myself my first self-injection. Just like I did with my dad in the doctor’s office, I breathed deeply before plunging it into my leg, exhaling only when I was done. And I felt the satisfaction of having done it on my own, which was sweeter than I thought it would be.

Working up the courage to self-inject is just one example of many experiences I’ve had with diabetes and being afraid to try something new. Whether it was trying a CGM for the first time or transitioning to a pump, each new thing I introduced to my diabetes care and management routine scared the hell out of me at first. But just like I proved to myself that self-injecting was nothing to be afraid of, I’ve shown myself time and time again that new things for diabetes aren’t always so bad.

My Thoughts on *That* Insulin Cap News

Just over a week ago, Eli Lilly announced a 70% reduction in price for its most commonly prescribed insulins that resulted in a cap of patient out-of-pocket costs at $35 or less per month.

This news was huge and spread like wildfire across the diabetes online community. And for good reason – it’s something that so many people with diabetes have needed to happen for a very long time. Most reactions I saw were that of complete and utter joy and relief. I’ll admit that’s what I felt at first, too, until I saw the more displeased responses that directed additional frustration and rage at Eli Lilly for not taking this action sooner, or reducing the cost of insulin to make it free altogether. Those posts got me thinking.

I’ve had time to reflect and gather my thoughts on the matter, and I think I land somewhere between thrilled and bummed, myself.

This news is absolutely something to be celebrated, as it will undoubtedly assist people who struggle to afford insulin with astronomically high price tags. This is an issue that I’ve spoken about on the blog before, and while I feel very fortunate to never have personally struggled with affording my own insulin (though I’ve certainly complained about out-of-pocket costs in the past), I’ve read countless stories about individuals in the United States who’ve had to take drastic measures in order to obtain this life-saving medication. So this news is wonderful, for sure, but it also feels a little too late.

Is this response from Lilly induced by the pressure that they’ve felt from diabetes advocates in the last several years? Is it a genuine call to action to other insulin manufacturers to follow suit and slash prices? Is it all just some sort of PR stunt? My suspicion is that it’s a mixture of all three, and while this feels like a victory for now, I don’t think that I will personally be satisfied until all people with diabetes are able to get insulin for free – no bottom line, no gimmicks, no nothing other than access for all.

My Diabetes Does Not Make Me Brave

“I’m a big brave dog, I’m a big brave dog, I’m a big brave dog…” is a mantra that little Chuckie Finster repeats to himself, over and over again, in an episode of The Rugrats that I recall vividly from my childhood.

It’s probably so cemented in my memory because I identified a lot with Chuckie as a kid – I was constantly overly cautious, nervous to try new things and scared about breaking rules or going against the norm. While I’ve overcome many trivial fears as I’ve gotten older, I still don’t think that I’m brave, despite many people telling me that I am…almost always in the context of my diabetes.

“You inject yourself with actual NEEDLES?! You’re so brave!”

“You wear two medical devices at all times? You’re so brave!”

“You put your diabetes story out there to share with others? You’re so brave!”

These are comments I’ve received from family, friends, and total strangers over the years, and while I appreciate the sentiment, I definitely don’t think that my diabetes has made me brave. I do these things because I have to. If I chose to not take care of my diabetes, or talk about my lived experience with it, I would be a much less healthy and happy individual. In my opinion, this isn’t equivalent to bravery – it’s common sense. It’s my reality that I accepted a long time ago.

As someone who is generally anxious and constantly worried about so many things besides diabetes, I’d much rather be admired for being brave about anything else that doesn’t remotely relate to my diabetes. Call me brave for trying something new that I was genuinely terrified about, or maybe say “you’re so brave” in a situation in which I took a stand for something I believe in. Hell, I don’t even mind if you continue to think that I’m brave in my journey with diabetes, but just recognize that my diabetes doesn’t make me brave – there are so many other facets of life that require genuine courage and spirit, and for me, I prefer to think of my diabetes as one teeny, tiny speck in that much larger, grander picture.

Finding Gratitude for Diabetes

On the surface, “gratitude” and “diabetes” don’t exactly go together like peanut butter and jelly…but for me, they are natural companions.

Every year since I’ve been a diabetes blogger, I’ve done some sort of post that explains why I’m grateful for diabetes around the Thanksgiving holiday. It’s a nice opportunity for me to take time to reflect and express appreciation for some obvious and not-so-obvious people and things.

Of course, there are a number of repeats year after year, including my family, friends, and partner; my dog, the roof over my head, the food on my plate, and so forth.

But as changes take place over time, additions are made to my list. Here are some new ones for this year:

New opportunities. Yesterday marked my final day working at a diabetes nonprofit. This Monday, I’ll begin a new job and continue my writing/editing career at a company that I’m thrilled to join. I’ve got mixed emotions about leaving diabetes behind professionally, but one thing is for certain – as a member of the diabetes community, I’m excited to continue being an active advocate and supporter of the people and programs that I’ve encountered in the last year and a half.

Access to diabetes supplies. I’ve always taken my diabetes supplies accessibility for granted. I don’t struggle to afford the medications and technologies I use (though it would certainly make my life easier if it was cheaper) and I am fortunate enough to have a solid supply on hand at all times. I know that other people with diabetes can’t say the same: an awful reality, but one that opens my eyes to something I should never take for granted.

Another thing I was grateful to do this past year? Travel to New Orleans for the ADA’s Sci Sessions and be surrounded by literally thousands of incredible people working to make a difference in the lives of people living with diabetes.

Exploring hobbies. I’ve had the wonderful chance in the last year to explore hobbies both old and new. I’ve recently picked up my knitting needles again and have made solid progress on my first sweater in a couple of years. I’ve been borrowing more books digitally from the public library so I can rekindle my love for reading. And I’ve been able to try tons of unfamiliar pastimes that I’ve grown to really embrace, such as volleyball, tabletop games, and even video gaming. It’s been a goal of mine to refamiliarize myself with the concept of down time and using it as a chance to do things that make me happy, and I’m so glad that I’ve leaned into this.

Diabetes itself. Yes, I am thankful for diabetes. Here’s why: I could spend all my time resenting it for (occasionally) making my life miserable. A long time ago, though, I chose to embrace diabetes for what it is. In turn, I’ve learned to be grateful for diabetes because of all it has brought and taught me…friendship, independence, discipline, and so much more. After all, this December 24th will mark my 25th anniversary with it – how could I not choose to find gratitude in something that’s been a part of me for nearly as long as I’ve been alive?

It seems especially significant that my departure from my role at a diabetes non-profit is just before the Thanksgiving holiday, which is a perfect time to express gratitude. So it is with zero exaggeration when I convey how grateful I am for this community, and in turn, for diabetes itself.

29 Feels Just Fine

Yesterday, I turned 29 years old. True to Hugging the Cactus tradition, I’m using today’s blog post as an opportunity to reflect on how I feel about this next year of my life.

29 feels just fine to me.

I’m feeling…just fine about 29. Before you think I’m just saying that because it rhymes, or because I’m not genuinely happy to be 29 (the rhyming is just a bonus and honestly, I’m happy to be any age because it means I’m living and that’s a wonderful thing), let me jump in and say it feels fine because…it just feels right for me, right here and right now. It’s not “just fine” in a sarcastic or curt way; rather, it’s “just fine” in the sense that it feels good and perfectly acceptable and something that I will embrace.

To tie it all back to diabetes, “good and perfectly acceptable and something that I will embrace” is kind of the attitude that I strive to maintain when it comes to how I feel about my diabetes. Of course, I have my days where everything is far from good, perfectly acceptable, or embrace-worthy. But generally speaking, I’ve worked hard to get to a place where I simply and peacefully coexist with my diabetes. I ride the waves of highs and lows and always find a way or means to overcome the unexpected ripples of randomness that my diabetes drifts my way.

So I’d like to carry that mindset into the last year of my 20s: a mindset in which I take comfort in knowing that I’m capable of riding the waves caused by diabetes, or anything else in my life, really. Arming myself with the knowledge that I grow through what I go through will help me thrive with diabetes and life, and it seems like an excellent nugget of wisdom to bring with me into year 29.

28 and Feeling Great

I turn 28 years old today!

As I say farewell to 27 and welcome a new year of life, I can’t help but reflect on how different the world was this time last year.

The pandemic was in full(er) force. The new normal was just establishing itself. Each day was scary and uncertain as hopes for a vaccine any time soon were somewhat bleak.

Fast-forward to the present: As the weather gets warmer, social distancing and masking guidelines are easing. More and more people are getting vaccinated on a daily basis. While we’re far from returning to life before the pandemic, we’re definitely much closer to being able to enjoy the simple pleasures in life (such as hugging a family member or friend) with less anxiety.

So even though the milestones I met in my 27th year (buying my first home, getting my puppy, surviving heartbreak and falling in love again, to name a few) are things that I celebrate daily, I’m also really looking forward to the minutiae of the next 365 days…seeing my family and friends in-person more frequently, breaking out of the bubble (safely, of course) that is my home, going to new and old places for both familiar and unknown experiences…in other words, I’m excited to embrace the things that I took for granted pre-pandemic.

Me with one of my favorite parts of 27

I’m hoping that year 28 brings a whole lot of “great” with it: lots of love, joy, adventures, and hugs from all the people that I’ve missed hugging in the last year or so. Just like with everything else in my life, I’ll bring my diabetes along for the ride and celebrate it, too, because it just makes me appreciate all the things that make life worth living that much more.

The Days that Diabetes Bothers Me

The vast majority of the time, I’m relatively unbothered by my diabetes.

I accepted long ago that it’s not going away any time soon. While that acceptance has made it easier to live a full life in spite of diabetes, I definitely still experience the occasional day that diabetes bothers me more compared to other days.

The days that I’m unbothered by diabetes are enriched by the ones when it bothers me.

It’s the days that I’m trying to enjoy time spent with loved ones.

It’s the days that I want to eat whatever I want without any consequences.

Heck, it’s the days that I want to eat, period – I’ve had days in which diabetes has restricted me from eating much of anything at all.

It’s the days that I need a really solid night of sleep the night before, but don’t get it because diabetes interfered.

It’s the days that I’m feeling so burnt out from it all that I just want to be normal.

Obviously, I’ve learned how to power through these days that I’m truly bothered by diabetes. But the ones that I simply can’t find the strength to do so are the hardest, and that’s when diabetes really gets to me.

I think that after 23 years with it, I’m allowed to be bothered by my diabetes every now and then. I don’t have to radiate sunshine and positivity about life with diabetes 24/7.

However, I think it makes the times that I’m unbothered by my diabetes that much richer because that’s when I get to stick it to diabetes.

Take that.

Happy New Year!

It is officially January 1, 2021.

When I think of January, the color gray comes to mind. This time of year is notorious for being a bit of a dull lull – a period in which everything abruptly slows down. The cold weather feels even colder and it can feel a bit like being trapped inside sometimes.

But we’re all pretty familiar with how that feels by now…

Anyways, that’s what I used to think of January. Now, I’m trying to shift my thinking and find the color and vibrancy in this month. After all, a new mindset – sort of like the one I touched on in Wednesday’s blog post but am still struggling to identify clearly – seems like it should just go together with a new year. If I keep the old mindset, I’ll get old results, and I don’t think I necessarily want old results (unless they pertain to the stretches of time in which my blood sugar levels have been spot-on, then I definitely want those results).

I’m rambling, I know. But this is my way of encouraging myself – and you – to do something that makes you happy today. Need some inspiration? I’ll share my plans: I’ll have a lovely homemade lasagna made by my mother, hang out at my parents’ house with our dogs, and text all of my loved ones to wish them a happy new year. If the weather cooperates, I’ll take a walk at some point to get some fresh air and a change of scenery. Maybe I’ll even get to totally veg out for a few hours and shirk the responsibilities of adulthood, pretending that a new workweek isn’t just around the corner.

All that sounds like a pretty great way to ring in a new year, don’t you think?

Here’s to a new year, your good health, hope, and of course, fabulous blood sugar levels.

Reflecting on 2020

2020. What a year, am I right?

This blog post is NOT going to be a recap of how “unprecedented”, “historical”, “chaotic”, or “uncertain” this year was – we all know exactly what it was like and we most definitely don’t need a summary of it.

Instead, this post is going to be a short reflection on some of the cards I was dealt with this year…

What exactly did I do in 2020?

Well, for starters, I made one of the most heart-wrenching decisions of my life to move back home last January.

In February, I was trying to heal from the damage caused by this decision.

And then, well, March happened, and suddenly nothing was certain.

I stumbled through April and May along with the rest of the world, trying to adjust to this “new normal” (I promise I won’t be using that phrase again in this post).

I flailed into the summer months, a time in which it seemed like things might be getting better, only for a bout of depression and anxiety to darken the light at the end of the tunnel I thought I had seen.

In September and October, I chose to dip my toes back into adulthood. By November, I was moving into my new place and getting used to living on my own.

Now it’s the final few days of December and I’ve got a dog (more on that in a future post) that’s joined me in my home, making it a little less lonely.

I’m marveling how in all the changes, challenges, and emotional upheavals lead me to this place that I’m in – and I’m not referring to my dwelling.

Normally, I try to go for bold and bright colors on photos for my posts, but this solemn black and gold scheme felt right with the theme of this post.

I’m talking about this new mindset – one that I haven’t quite defined yet, but one that has developed because of my determination to get through all of the above and still somehow maintain a good grip on my diabetes (and regularly keep up with this blog, to boot).

Please don’t mistake all this self-reflecting as tooting my own horn; in fact, I struggled for weeks as to whether I should share any of this. (Funny how my diabetes is less personal to me than, well, my entire personal life.)

I guess the point of this post, though, is to finally catch my breath and let everything I’ve accomplished and survived this year to sink in…and you should allow yourself that moment of recognition, too.

I doubt there’s a single person on this earth who can truly say that they were untouched in some way by any of the events of this year…so now that we are about to put 2020 into the past, I say that we all deserve to take some time and think about how we’ve adapted to everything and find some sort of joy in that – especially if you’re someone who also deals with anything like diabetes on a daily basis.

I’m not naive enough to think that everything will go back to the way it was “before” the second the clock says 12:01 A.M. on New Year’s Day, but I am hopeful that 2021 will exceed 2020 in many ways. And hope is a good thing to hold onto in times like these.

Happy New Year to all my Cactus Huggers, online friends, and IRL loved ones alike.