Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Election Day USA 2016

Shred the Patriarchy.
Let it be known that I'm voting for the candidate who will not completely repeal Obamacare and the many steps forward it has produced for healthcare in this country. I'm voting for the candidate who has fought for people with disabilities and health conditions, never mocking them or telling the terminally ill to not bother voting.

I'm a Nasty Woman, one who has a nasty chronic illness and knows how nasty health insurance is in this country. I'm old enough to remember hearing that "we need healthcare, not HillaryCare".

I don't know what's to come for this country. I know everything Hillary stands for is not perfect, but I also know she's no racist demagogue. I'm With Her. I'm excited that finally, hopefully, a woman will preside over the US. I'm voting for her because I feel like her campaign has been the one most based on logic and plans over hearsay and non-specific promises.

I'm leaving work in a few minutes to go vote. Pennsylvania polling places close at 8pm, but remember, if you are in line at 8pm, you should still be permitted to cast your ballot. If they are out of "I Voted" stickers, I'm making my own when I get home.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Political News of the Day: Semi-Fictional Characters Edition

(A non-diabetes related post for your amusement.)

Watching the first Presidential debate last night definitely required the gin and tonic I had in my hand. I was glad to hear that Hillary Clinton picked up on several of the issues addressed by Bernie Sanders during his campaign, and I was almost heartened by Trump's first ten seconds of speech--but then of course that turned into the shit-show we were expecting. 

Over-talking. Mansplaining. Using words like "bigly". Many of us saw it, tweeted about it, or at least saw the highlights and the tweets. 

My achievement of the night was the joke I made. Trump stated something to the effect of, "There are military leaders in this country who definitely support me." 

Of course there are! In fact, these are the leaders I came up with:
  • Admiral Akbar
  • General Grievous
  • Captain Crunch
  • The Skipper 
  • Sergeant Slaughter
  • General Anxiety
  • Major Boredom
  • Captain Caveman
  • Colonel Klink
I am not willing to take bets on the likelihood of Trump nominating any of these military greats to his Cabinet. Honestly? Captain Crunch has too much integrity to stick with this group. 

Friday, September 9, 2016

Nominated Lady

Thanks to some amazing reader or readers out there, I was just nominated for a Wego Health Activist Award as "Best Kept Secret"

I'm not trying to be a secret over here, but maybe I need to take off this mask? Turns out I'm not actually Catwoman! (Sorry if you thought I was.)

I am Hannah, hear me roar! Ten years in this blogging game. Today, I am celebrating this little victory.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Occlusion Conclusion

"Argh, I know!" I say out loud to no one in particular. The "someone" I'm addressing is my Tandem t:slim insulin pump, tucked securely in my bra. BEEP BEEP BEEP! is the response I receive.

I've been feeling kind of weird and overly tired for the past couple of weeks, and I realize my pump keeps throwing occlusions. Can I tell you how much I hate occlusions?

For those not in the know, an occlusion is basically a clog somewhere in your pump line. It can be caused by kinked tubing. It can be caused by the cannula getting bent in your infusion set. It can be caused by some invisible factor (seriously, I can't see what 3/4 of these problems are right now).

I'm calling customer service tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts. I will not rest until they send me a new pump. This is hideously frustrating, because if my pump isn't going to give me the right amount of insulin, what's the use of a pump at all?

I need to resume my fully functional cyborg status. Charge up that Dexcom G5 and let my robot pancreas do the work I tell it to! No more slacking off, t:slim. You're making me feel bad.

Monday, July 13, 2015

For Kycie, David, and all the other kids who didn't make it.

I could have been them. Taken from this earth far too young, before I'd even hit double-digits in age.

I can only remember bits and pieces of the day I was diagnosed. I'm not even sure what the exact day was, but it was in July of 1990. I couldn't breathe. My mom and dad rushed me to my pediatrician right away, where I started throwing up bile. I remember being hurried from the pediatrician's office to the hospital, right across the street. I can recall being a little scared, and a lot uncomfortable.

I was eight years old. All I knew was that I wanted someone to fix me, and the whole thing felt very surreal. I learned I was in something called diabetic ketoacidosis. (Maybe it was all the Sesame Street I watched when I was even smaller, but I first thought they were saying something that sounded like Spanish: quequitoacidosis. Pretty sure that is not a thing.)

Yet, it's what I found out later in life that rings true to this day, and brings pain to the hearts and minds of parents, caregivers and healthcare workers alike. Diabetes wasn't anyone's first thought when I first got sick. 

My pediatrician was deeply bothered by the fact that he missed it--my mom had talked to him a couple of weeks before about how I seemed to have the flu in the summertime. Some nasty virus was spreading around kids that summer, so nobody really thought anything of it. It was unusually warm, and I spent a lot of time outside at Girl Scout day camp, so no wonder I was drinking all the time, right?

So there I was, in the hospital, sicker than I'd ever been. Knock on wood, I will never end up that sick again.

Twenty-five years ago, I was one of the lucky kids. Even today, with all the technology we didn't yet have when I was growing up, not all kids are so lucky. What a bittersweet way to realize it's my diaversary.

Don't ever hesitate to ask for a glucose test for your kids. 

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Take This Diabetes and Shove It

An Ad, to Be Placed on Freecycle or the Giveaway Section of Craigslist

Free to a Good [or Bad] Home - Type 1 Diabetes (Philadelphia or Anywhere)

The beta cells in my pancreas quit working after 8 short years. My immune system attacked them, and instead of going back to doing their f**king job, they decided to just sit and panhandle around the Islets of Langerhans, like that's some kind of vacation for them. I've tried to give diabetes a chance for 25 years, but you know what? I'm done.

Surely there is some soul out there who would like to adopt my diabetes and give it a good home. Or maybe you know an unsuspecting Men's Rights Activist right-wing homophobic politician asshat that you want to teach a lesson. Either way, please come to this address [Hannah's House or Place of Employment] and help yourself.

Type 1 Diabetes has been a challenge to love. Most recently, an insulin pump site of mine got pulled off in the middle of the night, so I woke up around 6:30am with a raging "HI" staring deep into my soul from my glucose meter. Through gritted teeth I said, "Hello yourself" to the screen and injected a buttload of Novolog as I replaced my infusion set, drank two giant cups of water and went back to sleep, nauseous. A few hours later, at work, that buttload of Novolog kicked in all at once, so while my blood glucose clocked in at 200, my body was trying to tell me I was a solid 65 with shakiness and a case of the woozies.

Diabetes is sometimes a gentle nuisance, and other times it makes me want to cry, scream, and throw things across the room. That's not a terribly healthy behavior, so obvious my Diabetes would do much better if it were rehomed.

Please stop by this weekend. Type 1 Diabetes can be yours for the exclusive price of FREE-NINETY-NINE! I will even throw in all the fancy gadgets and tropical fruit punch glucose tabs!

I can also just leave it on the curb. Come grab it, as I only have this one case of Type 1 Diabetes to give away. If you're also interested, I will set out some plantar fasciitis, macular edema (right eye only), and arthritis of the lower back, also free.

It's a whole new kind of summer fun!

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

The Darker Days of Fall

Autumn is usually my favorite season. It's the time of year when the chill that I so love comes back into the air, when everything feels crisp, and rich colors dress the trees. I am one of those people who's into pumpkin spice lattes and chai, fresh seasonal apples and of course, cider. Halloween is usually a treat for me because I adore dressing up in costumes. 

But you may notice I've been absent from blogging about how it's okay to eat candy at Halloween with diabetes. You haven't yet seen any silly posts wherein I dress up my insulin vials. Actually, you haven't seen any posts from me at all since mid-September.

I'm still in the midst of a job search, applying, hoping, going through the motions. I try to be excited while attempting to not get hopes up too high at the same time. It's a competitive market out there, especially in the city. I've seen so many of you getting new job and career opportunities, and I'm so happy for all of you, but trying to manage a twinge of jealousy at the same time. I've looked at my Facebook feed and more than once whined at the laptop screen, "When's it going to be my turn?"

I shouldn't whine. I know better than that.

I think it's easier to whine when things have just been difficult all year. A grandparent-in-law's passing, a broken humerus, surgery, losing my job. What's really been keeping me away from blogging are two things I haven't had the words to talk about.

That better A1C I bragged about a little while back? It may have temporarily been a fluke, either of office equipment or my body itself. At my most recent endo visit, it was right back up again. That sucks, but it's not the part that's been weighing on me. I saw a retina specialist because it was discovered that I have DME in the right eye. The left eye isn't perfect either, but it doesn't have the severity of problems that my right eye does. I've had an Avastin injection, and my first follow-up visit after that is this coming Monday. I want to write about my eye in more detail, but I figured I should come out about it first.

The next thing that is difficult for me actually just hit yesterday. A good friend of mine from the Philadelphia poetry community passed away yesterday morning. He helped us run the slam I work with--he was like family to all of us. He was one of the hardest-working people I knew, pursuing his artistic dreams on the page and on the stage. He did spoken word and theater. He acted, directed, wrote, and was a hip-hop artist. Earlier this year, he turned 30. He was diagnosed with cancer right about the same time. At the slam, we opted to not send a team to the National Poetry Slam this year so we could donate a portion of the proceeds of our shows directly to him. Even through his illness, he looked forward to getting back to coaching youth poetry teams and making next year's NPS squad. I am going to miss MJ in numerous ways, some I'm sure I haven't even realized yet. I do hope that soon, in the coming days, we can give this NOLA son and renaissance man the jazz funeral he deserves.