... I'd like to say that ...

So I've been pretty remiss when it comes to updating the blog.

:: shamefully shakes head::

Sorry, I know, I've let my faithful four, count them FOUR, readers down. And what do I have to say for myself? Sadly, I have no excuse. I'd like to say that I was busy shopping for Christmas gifts or volunteering down at the Salvation Army. I'd like to say that I've been skiing up in Breckenridge with my husband or out every night dancing with my pals Mana and Megan. I'd like to say that I've been so busy living life to the fullest or giving to others that I have not had time to update my blog. I'd like to say all of these things and more. I'd like to say that...

But the truth comes down to this. My zombie-like, sleep-deprived, ultra PMSified (yes, that's a word, I declare it so) butt has been squarely planted on my couch for the past 3 days. I have been alternately participating in the following activities since Tuesday: sleeping, knitting, napping, eating chocolate, napping some more, playing with my new iPod, knitting a wee bit more, catching some zzzzs, popping advils like they are skittles, snoozing, reading US weekly, mumbling about all the stuff I need to get done, cuddling with the cats and more sleeping. However, this afternoon I broke the cycle (pun intended ... wait for it ...) and ventured out into the big, bad world with my husband to look for a stationary bike (okay, you can chuckle now)! We even consumed some food that came from somewhere besides the depths of our leftover-ridden refrigerator.

Samantha left for her dad's house on Wednesday. So I've had all of Wednesday and Thursday night plus two days to catch up on all the sleep I've missed from middle of the night blood sugar checks from the past 2 weeks. Turns out all I needed was some couch time. Some time to sit on the bench and let the second string take over for a few days. Of course, my version of letting the second string take over consists of spending all day worrying about severe hypos, impending stomach flu, unanswered blockage alarms with the inevitable raging ketones to follow and the never before seen (but often worried about) hypoglycemic seizure. Most of these mishaps (or worse depending upon which we're talking about) become no more than the tiniest of blips on my radar screen when Samantha is safe and sound in my care. But the second I have to just shut off the valve in my brain labeled "vigilance", the second I get a chance to breathe a sigh of relief and settle into my place on the bench while her dad takes over, the big giant switch in my brain labeled "abdication" switches on triggering the enormous set of cogs and wheels labeled "rumination" and the thoughts flood in. So, this whole process becomes quite exhausting, which then requires more couch time, leading to more quiet moments where I can fall victim, yet again, to the fear factory that has apparently taken up shop in my little noggin. Why am I rambling on about all of this now, might you ask? And what on earth does all of this have to do with a stationary bike or for that matter the Salvation Army? More than you could ever know.

What my body and brain needed these past days were two very different things. My body needed rest and my brain needed distraction. My body needed the couch and my brain needed the stationary bike (actually I think most people would agree that my body desperately needs that as well, but you get the picture). My body needed to take care of itself, my brain needed to take care of someone else. The different parts of my being were completely at odds with one another. You would think this would be disturbing, but really I am used to it, as are most parents dealing with a child with diabetes or something else similar (or worse). So, while I'd like to say that I've been out there tearing up the town in some terribly fashionable and alluring way and while I'd like to say that I've been giving to others without regard for myself, I have not. I've been doing my best to recharge my batteries, to make my body feel whole again. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting there, slowly and now I have the energy to divert the power in my brain away from the factory of fear and towards more productive things, like stationary bikes. Still not sexy and glamorous, but better than the couch. Much better than the couch.

I'd like to say that I am 100% okay with the way I live my life.

I'd like say that I don't miss the life less complicated, the one that I lived before June 2002, before blood glucose test strips littered my floor and blood glucose readings littered my brain.

After five and a half years, I'd like to say that I have completely made my peace with this new way of living ... with diabetes itself.

I'd like to say that ...