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.

Eye Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore

If you want to know the annual doctor's appointment that gnaws at my nerves the most, it's not the gynecologist.  It's the eye doctor. 

Coming in second or third to the stories most people will tell you about their family member who didn't take care of their diabetes and lost a foot are the stories of somebody's uncle/aunt/brother-in-law (etc) who went blind. 

I never feel like I know what my eyes are doing there.  Are they just sitting in my skull, happily doing their jobs?  Is there more to it than that?  Retinopathy, sounds like the most insidious of all diabetes complications.  It just lurks in the backs of your eyeballs until your eye doctor discovers it.  Sometimes I have a bad blood sugar day where my eyes refuse to focus properly.  Near the end of a bout with what may have been the norovirus earlier this year (still not sure what illness it was exactly) paired with an infection, I became super photosensitive very suddenly.  Light literally hurt my eyes when I got out of bed in the morning.  I was terrified.  What would the eye doctor find in three weeks?

Luckily, the photosensitivity faded with my illness and the completion of my antibiotics.  It could have been a symptom or a side effect, not sure which. 

Two days ago, I was at my annual eye checkup.  I had a new doctor, who was a nice guy in his mid-40s.  He checked my vision, and while I need to change my prescription slightly, he encouraged me that I was looking great.  Even with my ridiculous nearsightedness that I've had since kindergarten, I can still be corrected to 20/20 vision.  There are new glasses in my future.  I'm excited and also sad to see these glasses go.  After that quick exam, I was given drops.

He said my pressure looked great, which is reassuring given the history of glaucoma in my family, but then I had to wait for my eyes to dilate.  That's the moment I tend to get a lump in my throat.  I paused in my mind to reason with my retinas.  Okay, guys, you're feeling okay, yes?  Maybe?  Please? 

Sitting in the chair for the moment of truth, I asked, "So be honest, tell me how they look?  I've been diabetic for 22 years now.  I've been told that you can tell I'm diabetic by looking at them but there's nothing to worry about."

"They look great!" he exclaimed.  He paused to look at my chart on the computer.  "Actually, they look better than last year.  I can see one micro-spot in your right eye, but it's practically nothing.  And like I said, it's even better than before."

Sometimes I feel like I will forever be dodging bullets, despite my best efforts.  It's always comforting to know I can fight another day.  My eyes are 99.9% perfect.  After 22 years with type 1, I feel happy just knowing that.  I feel lucky.  And of course, I always feel like I could do better. 

So for now I hope that eye squirrel stays friendly.  Or that he's maybe more of a transient eye chipmunk, or a degu.