Note: this is a follow-up to an earlier post on Being Adventurous with Diabetes.
In early November, I texted one of my best friends, asking her how she would like to celebrate her upcoming birthday.
Her response: whitewater rafting.
Her birthday was in three days. It’s something she’s always wanted to do. She had a different start to her adult life – had to grow up way too fast and missed out on what some of us call the “fun” from our early 20’s. So, now that she’s hit 30, she’s trying to make up for it. I don’t blame her, and after the year she’s had, I want to support her. Except…
I am terrified of whitewater rafting. Honestly, I’m terrified of any water that moves (yes, I acknowledge the oxymoron in that statement, but let’s just say kiddie pools don’t count). I experienced a few “almost” drowning incidences as a kid, and that ruined any dreams of being The Little Mermaid. But I wanted to support my friend, and ever since I ran that 5K in October, I’d made a commitment to myself to be a little more adventurous. Continue reading
The holidays are always a tough time for someone with Type 1 diabetes. I’m constantly surrounded by holiday treats and carb-heavy foods. Holiday parties tend to be the worst culprit.
This could be why I’ve been a bit anti-social lately. I don’t want to be tempted. This past year, managing my blood sugar levels became increasingly more difficult. Maybe it’s because I’m older and my body is less resilient? Maybe it’s because I “cheat” more than I used to? Maybe it’s because I’ve had this disease longer, and it’s starting to take its toll on my mental and physical health?
Maybe all of the above? I recently took out a life insurance policy. That felt weird. And although I do my best, I know there is no guarantee with this disease, and in case anything terrible should happen as a result, I want my loved ones to be taken care of. But in the meantime, I’m still rooting for me. Continue reading
Halloween is a surreal holiday. It’s my favorite holiday, but it is also a reminder of how much life with an incurable chronic condition affects my perception of positive childhood memories. I’m lucky that I could grow up with trick or treating without Type 1 diabetes, but I am also cursed in that I will never relish in the same devilish appetite now that I have a disease that negates sugar.
So, it seems appropriate on this almost All Hallow’s Eve and in preparation for November — National Diabetes Awareness Month – that I should write about what it’s truly like to live a day in the life of someone with Type 1 diabetes. A few weeks ago, I took an ordinary Monday (well, as ordinary as a Monday can be) and tracked every time I thought about my diabetes – every time I checked my blood sugar, every time I calculated carbohydrates for a meal, every time I felt something was “off,” and every time I administered insulin to keep my body alive.
Even I was amazed at how much managing diabetes has become a part of my everyday life. With advancements in technology, I’m able to do more, and I’m able to have more variety in the foods I eat. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it any less. That doesn’t mean I can take a break from being there for my body.
So, here’s one example of one day (because no day is the same) with Type 1 diabetes (there are no days off). It’s a long one, so bear with (just keep in mind that this is really how much I think about diabetes on a daily basis – believe me, it sucks). Continue reading
Today, the Senate proposed a revised version of a new health care bill that makes me want to run for some hidden woodland area and never return. I literally had the thought that maybe it would actually be better if I killed myself than live through another four years of health coverage trauma.
Don’t worry. I’m not having suicidal thoughts, and I definitely want to see what else life has to offer. But I do worry about my well-being. A few years ago, I was focused on the planet and what we could do for the environment for the sake of public health. And while I’m still passionate about those issues, it’s hard to be focused on the Earth when I can’t even guarantee my own life’s safety. Continue reading
This past week, I visited my endocrinologist. My lab results looked good. I had an A1C of 6.0 (126 mg/dl – this is the target for those with Type 1 diabetes).
An A1C blood test provides insight into a person’s average blood sugar levels over a three-month period. Anything over 7.0 (154 mg/dl) usually means a risk of diabetes. When I was diagnosed with Type 1, I had an A1C of 16.0 (420 mg/dl). The fact I hadn’t gone into complete renal failure still astounds me.
Six months ago, I switched jobs so I acquired new health insurance. And for the first time in four years, I was excited to ask for a new prescription for my test strips and insulin. I no longer had to go through Optum-Rx, a mail-delivery service, to receive 90-day supplies of my medical needs. I could finally return to the wonders of CVS.
A few days later, CVS notified me that my test strips were ready for pick up, but when I checked my online account, I saw that my insulin was listed as a “new prescription on file.” So, I called the pharmacy. Apparently to fill my order of Humalog insulin, my new insurance required I get a prior authorization from my doctor. Well, that was new. Continue reading
A little more than a week ago I had the AC on and was basking in the midday sun. I felt excited for the day even if my new social energy pushed me to physical exhaustion. Life seemed full of hope again.
Then the work week arrived. And rumors of a new health care bill surfaced — one that would destroy protections for those with pre-existing conditions. I reached out to my representative. I spent a troubling amount of time trolling Twitter and tweeting about advocacy opportunities as well as sharing my own story.
On Thursday morning, a few hours before the bill was put to a vote, I went to the bathroom and cried. I just let it all out — the anxiety of a future that goes back to a time where I had to struggle to access the supplies I needed to live; the emotional devastation of living in a country that does not support my right to live; and the empathy for all those who may die (possibly millions) as a result of this bill. Continue reading
This post is dedicated to Patricia for giving me the courage to find the words to write about a topic that goes so much deeper than just policy.
The Affordable Care Act (ACA) aka Obamacare was passed into law on March 23, 2010. On April 24, 2009, I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, an incurable autoimmune disease. I must inject myself with insulin to live. Without insulin, my body goes into shock, something referred to as diabetic ketoacidosis. My organs ultimately fail, and then I die.
I was diagnosed nearly a year before the Affordable Care Act became law. I was preparing to graduate from college and start a career in psychology. I didn’t know much about the health care system in this country or the health insurance I would need to access the supplies that would help me manage this new disease. Fortunately I had started a full-time job and was able to acquire employer-sponsored health insurance.
By the time the ACA was passed, I had decided to change careers and return to school. But leaving that full-time job meant leaving behind my employer-sponsored health insurance. It would be another three years before the ACA was fully implemented. In those three years, I learned firsthand the physical, mental and financial ramifications of not being able to access the treatment I needed to manage my chronic condition.
When the ACA came into full effect on January 1, 2014, it had completely saved my life. Here are five reasons why. Continue reading