my life everyday, as i now know it.
i am my pancreas.
i use syringes and meters and finger sticks and sugar alcohols and all of this goes in my hip little indie bag.
call me what you will, an insulin junkie, an involuntary addict of sorts, but i think and live and survive everyday by being my own doctor, mathematician, nutritionist, dietician, gourmet chef, and counselor.
as my endocrinologist put it, "my job is only to help you see the forest from the trees."
and, WTF? life coach? who the hell needs a life coach?
ask a type 1 diabetic how they get through everyday, still laughing, studying, dreaming, hiking, working, running, cooking, despite all of the worrying, and you will realize you are the only 'life coach' you will ever know.
poor peabody's downward spiral started around this time last year, and i made it all the way 'til march 6 (thanks, buddy) until i absolutely could not go on...unless i wanted to end up in a temporary coma, eh?
but you know what? i'm loving my life in ways i cannot fully express yet. oh, it's coming though. it's seeping onto the pages of my green notebooks again, onto my stickered-up laptop you see up there, and my composition books full of messy notes and critiques and essays and thoughts. it's coming back through my camera. i see the world in a whole new light.
i'm. still. flying.
no one can stop you;