AFTER

I recently finished reading a wonderful book called After the Diagnosis: Transcending Chronic Illness by Julian Seifter, MD. Not only is Seifter a doctor (kidney specialist), but he's also a man with type I diabetes.

A few poignant moments in the book for me:

"There's a concept from the ancient world, revived in the Renaissance, known as serio ludere---"to play seriously." Serio ludere was shorthand for a set of ideas on how to live: Contain opposites. Embrace variety. Hold two thoughts at once. Be rational and informed (serio) but also creative and joyful (ludere)." (pg 4)

"Chronic illness doesn't necessarily diminish life; it can actually enrich life by inviting us to access parts of ourselves that might otherwise lie hidden." (pg. 4)

It's tempting, according to the author, to "give in to the diagnosis, to let yourself be reduced to the thing you have." After all, isn't that how we are made to feel---clothes taken away, cotton gowns, medical bracelets? (p.37)

"Our society is notoriously bad at accepting certain painful facts; that we all live in bodies that are subject to time and chance; that health---good or bad---is not fully within our control; that at some point, our bodies will betray us. Barring accidental or violent death, we all die of something." (p. 46)

"Doctors, however, don't have the time, the economic leeway, or, sometimes, the temperament to make room for the whole patient in all his complexity. They rarely inquire about a person's emotional or spiritual health or help with inner struggles. The office visit tends to be about time management and drug prescriptions, not relationships and the quest for meaning." (p. 87)

"[. . .] the burdens of chronic illness make it tempting to stay put and close the doors, retreating to a safe space where everythings known and predictable. Some people, when they become ill, hunker down; they need sameness, above all. This isn't wrong, and in facet may be quite right for certain temperaments. Not everyone is able to, or wants to, 'transform.'" (p. 130)

"Sickness doesn't have to mean the end of creative living and positive transformation. In any given life, change might manifest [. . .]" (p. 130)

"Unfortunately, our culture is inclined to promote the illusion of invulnerability: we believe we have the right not to be ill, we think we can sidestep again, and we avoid whenever possible the fact that each and every one of us is going to die. Why should we face facts? We have Botox! We have Viagra! We have the best medical advice! If someone is sick, it's obviously his own fault." (p. 165)

"[. . .] as it is for anyone with a chronic illness, has been to walk the line between 'possibility' and 'reality,' and let herself change and grow over time. This task is both hard and necessary; hard, because the temptation, with illness particularly, is to confine oneself to the familiar, becoming increasingly bound by habit and complacency; necessary, because only by opening oneself to what is 'next' can be a person truly live his life." (p. 181)

"Illness represents a hard limit---an unyielding reality that closes off possibility, compromises freedom, undermines desire and hope. At the same time, being sick opens up unexpected opportunities for creativity and growth. By taking away the 'taken-for-granted,' illness invites, even forces, new awareness and new learning. By exploring parts of the self that were once hidden by everyday routine, a sick person can find his way to creative expression, personal transformation, emotional enrichment" (p. 229)

Feeding Our Kiddos

Vegetarian chili (made with dark red kidney beans, tomatoes, onion, water, and spices) with a few crushed organic corn chips on top and cornbread

Scrambled eggs, sweet potato fries, and mango

Organic grapes and a sandwich made with whole grain bread, hummus, organic cheese, and alfalfa sprouts.

I know many parents who say how impossible it is to get kids to eat healthy, so they give in---again, and again, and again. The problem is that giving up and giving in results in children forming habits that effect them for their entire lives. Why do you think we have so many adults struggling to obtain a healthy weight, body, mind, and spirit?

Eating is complex. No doubt about it. But I believe as parents that we have a big job to do, and if we can do it right or even close-to-right, we are not only saving our kids from a lifetime of being overweight (and all the physical side effects), but from a lifetime of never feeling good enough about oneself.

Above are recent photos of some meals I made for my family. The pictures are taken from above my daughter's high chair tray. Does she always eat everything? Nope! Does she sometimes eat it all? Yep! Does she sometime say BLAHHHHH and let the food fall out of her mouth while asking for a cookie? Yep! The key is to keep trying and to make food healthy, fun, and colorful. And, parents, to decide your child's health means you're going to have to say "no" and "try" instead of caving in to their every whine.

As we approach a long and wonderful holiday season, let's think about the gifts we can give our family year-round. How about a healthy mindset toward food and the foods themselves that feed tummies and minds and self-esteems?

Getting Your Family To Eat Healthy IS Possible!

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Happy Thanksgiving!

And my a1c is....

7.0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Favorite Things---Thankful

My daughter's kitchen, broom, and toy food

The sign above the kitchen door

My awesome pie safe-top which houses decor, art projects, and more!

My new soap dish that goes with the bird-theme in my kitchen. Oh yes, and some yummy, homemade soap I got at a Farmer's Market.

This blog started as a diabetes-friendly recipe blog, but it's obviously evolved into much more than that. (And from this blog, I got addicted to blogging, and now have not one, not two, but three blogs! But each subject is so different that an all-in-one wasn't going to work). But I digress....

Taking my blog back to its start---my kitchen---is the focus of this blog post. Above are photos of a few of my favorite things in my kitchen---things I'm thankful for, that make me smile.

I do believe details matter and that beauty is found in small, everyday things and moments.

Make your kitchen a place that inspires you. It doesn't take a lot of money or time---just the thoughtful placement of a favorite thing.

Getting Involved

Check out my lastest article for Diabetes Health!

1 in 3 Adults Will Get Type 2

This story breaks my heart.

Diabetes should be a concern of every single person.

It isn't.

And that's the problem.

Diabetes---Would You Choose It?

So, as most of you know, my husband and I are parents through adoption. We are currently in the process of adopting a second time. One of the homestudy requirements is filling out a checklist that states what we are and are not open to in a child and biological mother. These questions range from drug use/exposure, to mental health, to communication before and after the child's birth, and medical problems.


And on this form was the dreaded D: Diabetes.


Would we be open to a child who has diabetes?


WHOA.


I mean, diabetes is a pretty big freaking deal. Well, sometimes.


I often tell people, you know, I'm actually lucky. I didn't get type I until I was 24 years old. I had all of my teen years to guzzle kiwi-strawberry "juice" drinks and consume gobs of Wendy's fries in "cheese" sauce, Pixie Sticks, Denny's pancakes, and plenty of greasy pizza. I didn't think twice about ordering a Sprite at Taco Bell to compliment my massive order of nachos. If I wanted a Blizzard from DQ, I ordered one.


I also wasn't tied to an insulin pump or had to worry about checking my blood sugar, seeing my doctor regularly (or a slew of specialists), or inspecting my feet.


I didn't fret if my newest pair of shoes pinched my toes a little. I didn't wear a medical ID bracelet. And I sure didn't worry about a lineup of potential side effects of high blood sugars.


I had twenty four years---hopefully a quarter of my life---without the disease. My parents weren't checking my sugar three times a night to make sure I wasn't comatose instead of sleeping. I didn't have to count carbs at age three, inject insulin at age six, or turn down cake at a slumber party at age twelve because my sugar was too high. I was free as a child.


I cannot imagine the stress parents of kids with diabetes are under. My heart breaks for these little ones and their caregivers. Diabetes is a hell of disease and burden.


(Now before you think I'm Mrs. Scrooge, I do believe my diabetes has blessed me in big ways. Without it, we wouldn't have adopted, we wouldn't be as healthy as we are, and we sure wouldn't be working hard to educate others).


I just know how hard my disease can be on my down days. Though these days are few and far between, they are difficult and remind me that I'm not normal.


So why would an adoptive parent willingly choose to adopt a child in a medically fragile situation?


Truly, I do not know.


But starting at that darn checklist and going down the list of potential complications was humbling. When you stop and think about the CHILD behind the checklist and not just the disease or disability, it's overwhelming. Confusing.


I joked to a fellow peer at our adoption training seminar last weekend that I would probably be the best person to care for a child with diabetes. I mean after all, I already have a ton of syringes and other creepy-diabetic things laying around. Haha. Not really funny. But seriously, I get this disease. Yes, it tricks me sometimes, but never for long. I won't allow it to win.


Adoption is complicated. And all the choices (and power) an adoptive couple has makes adoption even more complex.


It's funny that the reason we chose adoption for our family was my disease. So, let's put that diabetes behind us, or so I thought. But then the possibility of allowing more diabetes into our family, via a child needing a family, made my heart skip a beat.


If you are wondering, we marked "would consider" on that line.



I don't know what our future holds, and that's probably best. I didn't know I'd end up with diabetes, yet my life is still pretty amazing. Despite needles and blood and co-pays and foot checks, I have a supportive husband, a beautiful daughter, two jobs I'm passionate about, and a happy, cozy home. I'm blessed. I'm blessed despite, or should I say, I'm blessed BECAUSE of my disease.


Funny how some of life's greatest moments and experiences come from the darkest of places.


So cheers to a new adoption process and whatever is in store for our family!

An Invitation Turned Reminder

So I get an e-mail from a friend who proposes a girls' afternoon----Thai food and pedicures.

The thing is, diabetes doesn't dominate my life like it did when I was first diagnosed or even a few years ago. It has, as my doc promised, become normal.

But moments like these, like a simple invitation, reminds me that I'm not normal. I'm not carefree. I'm not just a busy mom who deserves a break.

I'm also a person with diabetes.

I don't get pedicures. For one, I just don't trust nail salons. I have no clue if they are clean or if the various substances and tools they use will be safe for my feet. You can read more about foot safety for people with diabetes on the ADA's website.

Many of us with diabetes try very hard to normalize our disease because if we are constantly feeling "special" (and not in a good way), we are restrained, jailed by our diabetes. But when diabetes becomes too normal, we risk forgetting that we aren't like everyone else. We have an incurable, demanding disease that requires our constant attention and concern.

Striking the balance between living and being responsible for diabetes is difficult. And I hope that wherever you are with your disease (or your loved one's disease), that you are carefully keeping yourself in the middle of the path---enjoying the sights around you, but staying grounded and focused---because diabetes in unpredictable, but it's also manageable.