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Now, coming at you live...

..........this update of "Sticking it to Diabetes" is brought to you by the numbers 3, 6, and 2 (!!!) and the letters W, T and F! Just when I'm sure his pancreas is finally crapping out for good after a two days worth of carb craziness something along the lines of : 1 unit of insulin to something other than 32 carbs, since that suddenly launches us into blood sugar oblivion... While I am analyzing trends and figuring out my next move-BAM! Suddenly, I can't keep him above 100. He's going low an hour after meals. We feed him, and I watch his Dexcom for the familiar spike and... nothing. WHERE DID THE CARBS GO? I gave him roughly 50 grams of uncovered carbs today, and at least 40 last night. He stays low, low, low, 300! Low, low, low, 310! 362! Mayday! Mayday! Now, pod change night and we've catapulted to 362! Perhaps his pancreas is having it's last hurrah? I do not know. What I do know is that Sticking it to Diabetes is turning into more of Diabetes Sticking it to Liam's Mom. A name change I was not consulted on. I suck right now. I'm lame. I say lame stuff. I see friends and I am so boring and not myself around them that I want to go home. To put them out of their misery. Not only do I suck, but I suck equally across the board. I don't even do one thing great. I am spreading my mediocrity across all aspects of my life and I am just over it. If I've been quiet, it's because I'm in a funk. It started with my laptop crashing on me, and suddenly not having easy access to the online diabetes community or the moms I've come to love like family from the blogging world. I started to drift off, and I got blindsided by a whole plethora of emotions I didn't know I had lurking around. Anger. Resentment. Jealousy. Not good stuff. Not me. I found myself at a fundraiser the other night for my son. I didn't organize it. A woman from a mom's group I joined that I was barely acquainted with surprised me by not only joining our walk team for the upcoming JDRF walk, but recruiting others. She is generously donating 50% of the profits from her own business to our team, and is just generally being INCREDIBLE. She hosted this fundraising night along with two other businesses that she told about my son who also wanted to contribute. Amazing. I was only able to stop by for a little while, but when she called everyone's attention to me and asked me to speak to this (smallish) group, I was caught unprepared. I stood to talk to this group of strangers, expecting to tell the story I have so many times already, and not two sentences in, I started... CRYING. That's right, crying! You totally understand, right? The thing is, in all the times I've told this story, I have NEVER cried. Never in front of anyone but maybe my husband, and maybe Laura and Joanne one time, but it was more of a mist than a cry. I can count the number of times Liam's diabetes has made me cry on both hands. In one year, I have cried less than 10 times. And in front of these strangers, I lost it. Wherever it is that I have pushed the rawness of this- deep underneath the basal patterns and carb ratios and the stony sarcasm- I just blow the lid off that sh*t. I have spent so much time buckling down and pushing on and being optimistic and generally just being a blood sugar slaying robot- that something as simple as crying sent me for a loop. I barely heard as the next woman stood up and talked about her niece who had been diagnosed with diabetes as a child and told everyone how her niece says that it's horrible because diabetic kids can't do something as simple as have cake at a birthday party, and how she felt like she might as well be "retarded" (not a word I would approve, but I'm quoting here). My eyes glazed over as she described how that niece had just had a baby and how overjoyed they all were that the baby wasn't born with diabetes. (My eyes may have been glazed over, but one eyebrow was definitely raised and you all can join me for the eye roll). Another person stood to speak about how her father in law had died due to complications from diabetes and being overweight and how her husband had just been diagnosed and how we have to beat diabetes. By now the glaze in my eyes had dissipated and I was wondering how PC it would be to launch into a tirade on Type 1 vs. Type 2 Diabetes. vs. "the bullsh*t other people who only know someone with diabetes say when they don't know what the HELL they are talking about" while in the middle of a fundraiser being hosted for my son by a bunch of moved and generous strangers. I wait for an opportunity to open my mouth but I realize I am just TOO TIRED and DRAINED to do it justice. I mentally take names and plan to pull people aside at the walk to set things straight. I go home thinking about all the things that were said that were wrong and not the spirit of the event. I go home thinking of every spelling error I ever noticed in a walk video when I should have been crying. I go home thinking that I am tired. I am losing myself in diabetes. I can't see the humor in it anymore. Whenever I used to talk to people about it, they'd marvel at how positive I was. How clearly I could see the silver linings. I've noticed that I don't see them anymore, and consequently, I don't talk to people about it anymore. I can't even come here and blow off steam without the self-loathing kicking in two sentences in and deleting the depressing crap I don't want to look at anymore. I don't know how I got into this dark hole, but I am clawing my way out. This isn't me. I'm not going down this easily.

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