Author Archives: Tracy Gnadinger

The One With the Silent ‘G’

Posted in Personal by

“Guhhhhnadinger,” my third grade classmate attempted to pronounce my last name as he handed me my name tag. It was the first time I realized there might be something wrong with my last name, and that I would struggle with this deformity for the rest of my life.

When I was in fifth grade, my teacher pronounced it with a hard “g” at the end, and although my classmates corrected her, technically it was correct. In fact, even though most of my immediate family pronounces our last name with a soft “a” and second “g” at the end, most of the rest of the family pronounces it with a hard “A” and second “G.” And according to my dad, this is the closest pronunciation to the original spelling.

It’s a rather simple last name if you take away the German “G.” Instead of “Gnadinger,” you would have “Nadinger,” and I think everyone would know how to pronounce that, but it’s that damn “G” that throws everyone off. Anytime I attend a conference, go to the pharmacy, or any place that must check me off a list, I always introduce myself as “Gnadinger … G… n…a…d…” Always.

It comes naturally. And growing up, I thought how easy it would be if I didn’t have this German conundrum. Apparently, when my German ancestors migrated here in the 19th century, they changed the spelling to make it more “American.” Yet they couldn’t get rid of the silent “G.” Continue reading →

From Here to There Yet Nowhere

Posted in Animals, Mental Health, Personal, Travel by

When I’m in Louisville, Kentucky, on the border of southern Indiana, I see large Maple trees and gravel pathways lined with yellow patches of grass and fallen crisp leaves. A Beagle-Greyhound mix runs in front of me, sniffing at the brown speckled frog camouflaged by rocks and pebbles along the path. A man of 20, just starting out in the world, lights a cigarette nearby. And another man of 26 attempts to restrain the dog and keep her out of the way of the oncoming cyclist.

When I’m in Bethesda, Maryland, on the border of Washington, DC, I hear ambulance sirens and beeping horns of SUVs and BMWs. I sidestep an upraised brick in the sidewalk and bypass an orange cone of a construction zone, the latest in a series of luxury condo high rises. I pass by commuters listening to headphones and carrying laptop bags with their eyes glued to smart phones. I also attempt to drown out the noise of the city with my mood’s latest trend – this time dubstep. And then I move out of the way of an oncoming cyclist.

Belonging

More than a year ago, I made the move from Baltimore to DC. And four years before that I made the move from Cincinnati to Baltimore. And five years prior to that, I left my hometown of Louisville, Kentucky.

So exactly 10 years ago, a few weeks from today, I ventured from my roots with no plans to return. Of my two brothers and various family members, I have so far been the only one to do so (not including those who left before me). But what I didn’t realize then was what I would be giving up and what I would never be able to have again: a home. Continue reading →

Needles, Reservoirs, Cannulas, and More

Posted in Cost, Diabetes, Insurance, Medical Supplies, Type 1 by

The other day I was replacing my insulin pump reservoir. This requires a series of steps that I will reiterate for those who have never had to replace their insulin pump supply (as a side note, manufacturers, physicians, and researchers alike recommend switching this supply every three days although I sometimes stretch mine to four).

Replacing my Insulin Pump Reservoir

The first thing one needs is an alcohol swab, reservoir, infusion set, a blue cylinder-shaped device to inject the infusion set underneath the skin, and of course the insulin and pump. So after wiping the spot on my stomach with alcohol and then the top of the insulin vial, I use the reservoir to fill the plastic insulin container with insulin from the vial (it’s important to make sure you remove all air bubbles from the plastic container). And then of course my cat knocks the vial from my desk (it’s small enough this is harmless).

I then twist the reservoir into the end of the infusion set. I rewind the insulin pump so that it knows there is zero insulin inside and can essentially start to recount my usage (I tell it I use 100 units per new supply). I place the new reservoir into the insulin pump and then fill the 23-inch thin plastic tubing of the infusion set so that I know insulin will safely travel through the cannula from the pump to underneath my skin (this usually requires 6-9 units of insulin per fill). Continue reading →

‘It’s All About Perspective’

Posted in Body Image, Diabetes, Mental Health, Personal, Relationships, Travel by

More than a week ago, I was in Louisville, Kentucky for my 10-year high school reunion. In addition to that, I spent a wonderful extended weekend with family and friends celebrating birthdays and life’s successes. And all of this while sleeping on a cot (because like myself, my parents do not waste space — as soon as I left for college my old bedroom was turned into a bedroom for my brothers and then an office for my parents).

And although I may complain every time I visit about the sleeping accommodations and the fact that I lay exposed in the living or dining room, I am secretly proud of my parents for not keeping my bedroom as a shrine, for making the most of what they have.

But since that weekend, I have endured countless awful days of stress and anxiety. And I sank into a small depressive hole, questioning what I was doing with my life and why my personal and professional lives could not co-exist in the same city.

Photo Aug 17, 2 16 46 PM

Devastating News

That is until I learned one of my best friends was almost beaten to death on his bike over a cell phone. Suddenly my questions about a meaningful existence seemed irrelevant. Because all that mattered is that my best friend made it out okay. All that mattered was that someone I loved would survive this tragedy without too much scarring. Continue reading →

A Not So ‘Silent Spring’

Posted in Cost, Diabetes, Food, Personal, Research, Type 1, Women's Health by

Rachel Carson Silent SpringIt should be amazing to me that in the six years since I’ve been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes and the four years I’ve been involved in the sustainability movement, I have yet to read Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, a classic for environmental health advocacy. This is the book that catapulted events leading to the establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency and the ban on the production of DDT (the effects of this chemical are sadly still with us today).

And yet it was published in 1962 by a woman. That was more than 50 years ago, and I admit Carson might appreciate that we have taken her words to heart, but she would probably be disappointed with the amount of toxic chemicals that still plague our homes and health statuses.

Even though my chronic disease is “autoimmune,” my body showed no evidence of this fact. And even though my doctors tell me it’s probably genetic, I have no family history. The media and scare over the diabetes epidemic would have you believe it’s my fault, but I’ve always taken good care of myself and have always been in good health until six years ago. Continue reading →

The Plague of Job Searching

Posted in Cost, Mental Health, Professional by

No matter if it’s been three weeks or six months or two years, the plague of searching for a job is the same. It eats a hole inside your very core. Just like burnout, you start to feel resentment and finally indifference. No matter how many applications you submit, informational interviews you set up, and pay cuts you’re willing to take, you never feel satisfied. It’s like looking at the top of Mount Everest at base camp, hardly able to breathe, and knowing it seems unlikely you will ever make it to the peak.

This is not a fun place to be. It tears at you emotionally, mentally, and physically. As writers, we’re used to rejections, but unless our everyday livelihood depends on it, it’s not as brutal as a stream of job rejections. They’re not only rejecting you as a person — they’re rejecting your chance at a better life, a life you’ve worked so hard to build and yet to have crushed by an unstable economy and “lack of experience.”

My friend and colleague Dawn Gannon puts it blatantly when she says she wants to shout from the rooftop of her Baltimore row house: “somebody fucking hire me already!” We all know what she means. Kudos to Dawn for revamping her blog and starting with a difficult topic. I look forward to reading more. You should check her out at pinktintedbrain.com. She’s got some killer stories to tell.

The Meaning of Life (as told by Normandy the Cat)

Posted in Animals, Personal by

Unlike dogs, cats have never quite been domesticated. In fact, rather than controlling them, cats think they have control of us. They’ve somehow figured out how to be fed, cleaned up after, and petted in all the right places, all the while having us think it’s for our benefit.

So what better species to deem life lessons from? In the nine months since I’ve adopted Norm, my black and brown two-year-old tabby, I’ve learned a few things from this feline who thinks my world revolves around him. Here’s what he has to say: Continue reading →

All The Pretty Girls

Posted in Body Image, Diabetes, Exercise, Food, Relationships, Women's Health by

It’s hard to feel pretty when I feel like my mouth is the size of a cantaloupe, and I can only chew my dinner on the left side of my jaw. Today I had three cavities filled. I’ve never had a cavity in my life (damn those childhood sealants, which apparently become traps for bacteria as an adult).

I should really stop going to the doctor. This year is the year of medical expenses. Every time I go, even for what I think is going to be a yearly check-up, they find something wrong with me. A part of me wonders if this is some kind of conspiracy, but when my dentist showed me the actual images of my cavity-filled teeth, I knew he wasn’t lying.

The procedure wasn’t as bad as I thought. The numbing shots didn’t hurt, and there weren’t any bad smells, but when I left the office, I was oddly self-conscious of my numb face, and the fact that if the side of my face started to droop, I probably wouldn’t notice. So I spent the 20-minute walk home trying to keep my lips shut and avoid any kind of conversation with passersby.

But how is this different from any other day? I have a 10-minute commute to and from work every day. I’m lucky in that DC sense. And every time I make that trek, I am oddly self-conscious. Are my headphones too loud? Can anyone see my underwear line? Can anyone see my lacy bra peeking out beneath my sleeveless top? Is that bulge beneath my pencil skirt obvious? Are there sweat stains beneath my bra line?

Yet even amongst all these questions, I’m oddly confident. I make that walk like I own the sidewalk, and I never look back. I’m aware of my figure, and how good I look in my pencil skirt. But do I ever notice anyone checking me out? No. Do I ever see people look at me? Yep. And I automatically think there must be something wrong with my wardrobe or my headphones aren’t plugged into my phone and everyone can hear my music. Continue reading →

The Emptiness of Dating

Posted in Personal, Relationships by

I bend the blade of grass into a braid. I attempt to pull one end of the braid and pull it into a rose, but the blade breaks before the rose forms. I throw it behind me and rest my hands over my raised knees. The humid air suffocates my energy, but the hot sun makes me feel alive. I feel the sweat drip down the back of my blouse and disappear at the tip of my bottom.

My date is talking about soccer or some sport, and I nod my head every few minutes, but I’m looking at the horizon. We sit on a hilltop, and as I watch the bees and flies buzz around me, I want to cry. I feel nothing, but I feel something. And even though my disinterest shows, my date doesn’t seem to mind.

He asks me questions, and I give him quick answers. He looks me in the eyes and smiles, and I fake a half-smile. There’s nothing wrong with this man next to me. He may be short and slightly balding, but after a few dates, I surmise he’s a good guy. And if I felt something, I might have another relationship opportunity, even if only for the short-term. Continue reading →

What I Need to Remember: Love is Real

Posted in Diabetes, Personal by

Time CapsuleTen years ago one of my best friends from high school and I created a time capsule. Last year as I was going through boxed things at my parents’ house in Louisville, Kentucky, I came across an envelope with “June 17, 2015” written on the front. I took it back with me to DC.

But I was nervous to discover what my 18-year-old self thought my future would hold. So as I went running this morning, I reflected on how 10 years ago I was with my best friend sitting on a bench near the park by her apartment complex and writing down our lives. We wrote about what we thought mattered most and what we thought we wanted to preserve for our 28-year-old selves.

So when I returned from my run, I turned the envelope over in my hands, but I couldn’t open it. Did I think I would be married by now? Did I think I would have that bestselling novel? Did I think I would be living in some foreign country? I decided it would be best to wait to open the envelope until the end of the day when I could have a glass of wine in hand and sleep on it if need be.

Twelve hours later, I opened that envelope and the first thing I read made me cry. At the top of the piece of loose-leaf above Time Capsule (because even at 18, I was an organized freak), I had written the following (in what seemed like a last minute addition):

What I Need to Remember: Love Is Real.

Continue reading →