A Letter to New D-Moms and Dads

Dear New D-Mom or Dad,

You don’t know me, but I know you. I know what you’re thinking, I know what you’re feeling, I know that you cry a hundred tears every day. I know you lay in bed for hours every night trying to figure out what you did wrong. What did you do…or didn’t do…that caused your child to become sick, what did you do to cause them to get Type 1 Diabetes.

I know you because I AM YOU…or at least I was.

There’s nothing you’re feeling that I, and a million other D-Parents, haven’t felt. It’s okay, it’s normal, it’s to be expected…and it’s a waste of energy.

It wasn’t anything you let your child eat, or not eat. It wasn’t because you breast fed, or didn’t breast feed. It wasn’t because you reheated your child’s food in a plastic bowl in the microwave. It wasn’t because you let them play in the grass barefoot, or play in a mud puddle, or they ate a bug or because you made them wear lime green pants on every third Monday.

You didn’t do this. Are you listening…you DIDN’T do this. I can feel you saying, “I know” yet in your heart you don’t believe the words, so let me say it again…YOU DIDN’T DO THIS…unless of course you physically ripped your child’s pancreas from their body, because that would be the ONLY way you could have caused your child’s diabetes.

No ripping out of the pancreas? I didn’t think so…so repeat after me, “I DIDN’T DO THIS TO MY CHILD!”

You also need to stop beating yourself up because you can’t remember 2/3 of what they told you during your child’s initial hospital stay…or as I like to call it, Diabetes Boot Camp. Seriously, you were in shock, you were overwhelmed, your child was seriously ill – possibly near death, you were sleep deprived and the hospital staff was giving you one class after another. It’s a miracle you could remember your child’s name let alone a single piece of the information that was being crammed down your throat. It’s okay, the information is out there, help is out there…you are not alone.

Don’t believe half the stuff you read on the internet…people can post ANYTHING on the net and are rarely held accountable. There are no teas, no berries, no magical bath salts that will cure your child. There is no cure for Type 1 Diabetes. Don’t listen to people who say there is. We’re working on it, thousands of doctors and researchers have devoted their lives to finding a cure, millions of people are raising money to fund the research…but we’re not there yet. If you want to give your money away then give it where it will actually do some good (like the JDRF or the Diabetes Research Institute), sponsor someone who is walking or riding for the cure...don’t give it to all the con artist who give false promises.

At some point, especially during the first year (better known as the honeymoon period) you’re going to question the diagnoses. How can my child possibly have diabetes when their blood sugar drops so low after they take insulin? Diabetes means my child should have HIGH blood sugar levels, not low. I think there’s been a terrible mistake….a misdiagnoses.

There was no mistake.

The truth is more diabetics die of low blood sugar than high blood sugar. It’s scary, it’s not what we learned growing up, but it’s true. When trying to educate people I always tell them that diabetes is a disease that doesn’t follow any rules. What works for you today might not work next week. What works for a friend’s child might not work for your child. Just remember, high blood sugar may kill your child eventually, but low blood sugar will kill them right now. Be prepared for the lows…ALWAYS be prepared for the lows. Memorize the signs of low blood sugar: confusion, dizziness, feeling shaky, hunger, headaches, irritability, racing heart, pale skin, sweating, trembling, weakness, anxiety.

Once again…confusion, dizziness, feeling shaky, hunger, headaches, irritability, racing heart, pale skin, sweating, trembling, weakness and/or anxiety. This is important, recognizing these symptoms will save your child’s life.

Don’t be afraid to check your child’s blood sugar in the middle of the night, as a matter of fact I encourage it. Blood sugar levels can be great when your child goes to bed and drop to deadly low levels when they’re sleeping. Yes, you’re child isn’t going to be happy…you’re their mother, it’s not your job to always make them happy, it IS your job to keep them alive. I’m not telling you this to scare you, I’m telling you it to help you save your child. Besides, we both know you can’t possibly be more scared than you already are.

Follow your gut. If something doesn’t seem right to you, check their blood sugar. Remember to ALWAYS follow up treatments for lows with protein. Protein is important; it’s what will keep their blood sugar from dropping too low again.

Remember that almost every person you know THINKS they know what to do for diabetes, but unless they have it, or their child or spouse has it, or they’re a medical professional who routinely works with diabetics then they don’t have a clue. They may think they know, but they don’t. Don’t get angry, use these conversations to educate them. Explain that Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease; explain that although a healthy diet is important for a diabetic it’s equally important for EVERY child. Explain that your child CAN have sugar, and bread, and potatoes…or anything that everyone else can eat, but it has to be in moderation. Imagine being the only child at a birthday party who’s not allowed to eat a piece of cake. LET THEM HAVE CAKE…just make sure you give them enough insulin to cover it.

Control the diabetes, don’t let it control you. Educate yourself, educate others. Don’t let it rob your child of their childhood. Let your kid be a kid.

You’re going to make mistakes, every parent of a diabetic child has made mistakes…we’re human. Acknowledge the error, learn from it…then move on.

Become active in the diabetic community. Learn from MY mistake. I didn’t become active until we were 6 years into our life with diabetes, and it was hard. The feeling of isolation, beating myself up when something went wrong, thinking I was the only one who ever felt this way…it all could have been avoided if I’d only connected with other D-Moms and dads.

You are NOT alone. We’re here for you, let us help you. Let us teach you and comfort you. Let us hold your hand when you’re scared and give you a shoulder to cry on when you’re overwhelmed. You don’t have to do this by yourself…we WANT to help…we’ve been there, we’ve lived it…we’re STILL living it, we understand…we won’t judge…we CAN help.

You are NOT alone, you can do this…you CAN do this.

I promise.

Surprise!!!

My son sat me down a few days ago to tell me he and his girlfriend Chansey were expecting a baby.  It obviously wasn't planned (he just graduated college, doesn't have a job and still lives at home), but we wanted me to know that even though he had never planned to have children he was very excited and had every intention of being a great father to his child.

Wow....I didn't see that one coming!

I was very careful to keep my face blank, and took a moment to count to 10 before I responded.  I knew I had to choose my words wisely because while my mind was screaming NOOOOOOO!!!!, I knew that my son was scared and more than anything he needed my love and support. So that's what I gave him.  There's a time for lectures and this was not one of them.

I'm going to be honest, I'm not thrilled about the circumstances, but what parent would be? My son worked his ass off in school so he would graduate with honors - which he did - and was in search of his dream job and I sat there envisioning a large number of possibility doors slamming shut. He no longer has the luxury of taking his time to find the perfect job...now he just needs ANY job. He has a child on the way and that means he has a lot financial responsibility crashing down on his shoulders. Babies are expensive. It will need diapers, and clothes, and food, and insurance...anyone who has ever had a child knows exactly what I'm talking about. This child is HIS financial responsibility, not the responsibility of tax payers in our state.

I'm proud of my son for accepting responsibility for his actions, a lot of men would have walked away and left the mother to deal with the fallout. I'm proud that he's already deeply in love and devoted to his child...I would expect no less.

But still, even though I'm worried sick about his future, about his girlfriend's future, about the baby's future, I have to admit that the moment I looked at the ultrasound picture my heart melted and I fell instantly in love with my grandson...or granddaughter...we don't know yet but I'm feeling boy vibes.

So sometime in September we will be getting an addition to our family.  It's going to feel strange to be a "normal" grandma, but I'm here to show love and support for DJ and his new family and I'm asking all our friends and family to do the same. DJ and Chansey are about to start down a hard and rocky road, and they'll need all the love, prayers, and good thoughts they can get.

Diabetic Whiplash



Our family, like most families affected by Diabetes, are forced to play a daily game that I like to call Diabetic Twister.

Here's how it goes...The person with diabetes walks into the room with normal blood sugar levels and everyone is standing firm. Thirty minutes later they come into the room feeling a little shaky so they check their blood sugar and are a little low. No problem, they drink a glass of juice to raise their blood sugar and follow it up with some peanut butter crackers to help keep the blood sugar up.

An hour later you check on the person with diabetes and they're drinking non-stop. A quick blood sugar check shows their blood sugar is a little high, so they take some insulin and you make a mental note to check again in an hour

An hour later you go to remind your diabetic loved one to check their blood sugar and you're greeted by somebody who looks like your person with diabetes, but their normally loving personality has been replaced by a person with a pissy mood who is holding their head over a puke bucket.  You tell them it's time to check their blood sugar and they tell you to get the hell out of their room...loudly.  Then the snarky comments start spewing from their mouth, each one like a poison arrow aimed straight for your heart.  At this point you know from experience their blood sugar is probably REALLY high, so beg, plead, cajole, and nag until they finally check. This normally includes some very animated slamming of things, mumbling, and all around bratty attitude, but you know it's not your person, it's the disease, so you dodge those poison word arrows and ignore the behavior.  Depending on the age of your diabetic sometimes you figure out the correction dose, sometimes they do...but either way it becomes a waiting game to see what their blood sugar is going to do next. Depending on how high their blood sugar levels are you start watching for signs of diabetic ketoacidosis or DKA as we commonly call it.

DKA is a nightmare for the diabetic parent. When the diabetic is in DKA they have high levels of a nasty little chemical called Ketones. Simply put, Ketones are like poison to a diabetic and if left untreated they can lead to death.  We take Ketones VERY seriously and keep a sharp lookout for the symptoms: extreme thirst, frequent urination, fruity smelling breath, agitation, irritation or aggression, confusion, sluggishness, fatigue, rapid breathing, rapid heart rate, and nausea.

Now THIS is where the fun begins!  In order to flush the body of the ketones you must do two things...drink LOTS of water and take much more insulin than normal. Of course that leads to the next problem...their blood sugar bottoming out. This means somebody needs to stay awake to check on the person with diabetes throughout the night because while high blood sugar will damage their body and can lead to loss of limbs, loss of vision, higher rates of heart disease and stroke, and several severe neuropathies that can damage everything from nerves in their fingers and legs to their internal organs, untreated low blood sugar leads to death. 

Here's a little known fact outside the diabetic community...More diabetics die from LOW blood sugar rather than high blood sugar. We call it the "dead in bed" syndrome and it's the thing we fear most.  Blood sugars drop while the diabetic is sleeping, but because they aren't awake they don't feel the symptoms and they aren't treated. Blood sugars continue to drop, the person goes into a seizure, or a coma, and then cardiac arrest.

Yep, we take low blood sugars VERY seriously.

So..back to Diabetic Twister. This is a non-ending event for diabetic families...and I call them (us) a diabetic family because diabetes truly does affect every member of the family.  Diabetic Twister often causes another complication I call Diabetic Whiplash.  They're low, they're high, they're higher, they're low again, they're wayyy too low, they're normal, no wait they're high again...FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WILL IT JUST STAY IN NORMAL RANGE SO I CAN HAVE MY (fill in the blank mother/father/sister/brother/daughter/son/grandchild) BACK!?!

Diabetic Whiplash often causes emotional fatigue.  A person with low or high blood sugar levels are often not very pleasant to be around. They say things...MEAN things..and this is often at a very loud volume punctuated by loud sighs, eye rolling animated body movements, and sometimes items being thrown at you.  Sometimes it even leads to a physical attack.  Although we caregivers understand it's the disease, NOT the person, causing all this nastiness it still hurts our feelings...a LOT.  So even when the blood sugar levels go back within normal range and our diabetic is acting like their old self again we are still hurting.

So how do we deal with this day after day? We're THANKFUL. We are thankful our loved one is still here to hurl insults, we're THANKFUL they're here for us to check on throughout the night, we're THANKFUL for the insulin that causes the roller coaster of blood sugar levels, because before insulin diabetes was a terminal illness for everyone who got it.

So we'll happily play Diabetic Twister and suffer diabetic whiplash forever because it means our diabetic loved one is still with us.

Not Today

Today I added another bracelet to those I wear daily. I'm not a big fan of jewelry of any type, but these bracelets are special because they represent important aspects of my life.

 The first is my blue CURE DIABETES that I wear in honor of Brandi and all the diabetic children of my friends, my father, brothers, and best friend.  Anyone who has ever spoken with me knows I live and breathe diabetes education, advocacy and raising money to fund research that will provide better medications, treatment options and (hopefully) a CURE for our children and the millions of children like them.  I don't ever want another family to go what we've gone through, I don't ever want to read that another person has died due to complications of diabetes.

My second bracelet is a green DONATE LIFE bracelet that the members of our family were given when my father's organs were donated following his death. I have been a registered organ donor for many years, long before it became popular with the general public. I believe so strongly in organ donation that a little over 5 years ago I became a living organ donor and gave one of my kidneys to a wonderful woman who has since became a great friend. It still remains the thing I'm most proud of.

The third bracelet is a black bracelet that reads NOT TODAY and it represents my commitment to the police officers, firefighters, and paramedics who I work with everyday. I take my job very seriously - I must, I've been doing it for 30 years. Of course my goal is to help citizens when they're in a crisis, but my vow is to not have any harm come to those who have live their lives to serve their community, those who risk their lives for strangers, those who face death everyday for people who don't appreciate them. Everybody loves firefighters, and rightfully so. Paramedics are appreciated by every sick person they treat, but cops..well, a large portion of the population hate them and an even larger portion fear them.  Are there "bad" cops? Sure, just as there are "bad" doctors, teachers, and garbage men. EVERY profession has it's rotten apples, and law enforcement is no different. But after three decades in emergency services I can tell you that for every 1 bad cop you hear about there's about 30,000 good ones that never make the news.  You'll never see a news story about how they run from call to call for their entire shift. You'll never read a newspaper article telling you that even though their wages are so low that many qualify for food stamps they still put on the uniform every day and risk their lives for you. I love these men and women as I love my children. They're in my heart even when they drive me crazy and piss me off. My goal every time I step foot through the doors of our 9-1-1 center to make sure these officers go home to their families at the end of their shift. An  officer getting hurt or killed?? NOT TODAY! A firefighter injured as they rush into a burning building? NOT TODAY! A paramedic harmed by a violent patient? NOT TODAY!

So the next time you get pulled over and start muttering something along the lines of, "Don't these damn cops have REAL crimes to solve?" just remember, traveling at speeds above the posted speed limit is a violation of state law, which makes it a REAL crime. Careless and imprudent drivers cause thousands of death each year, so YES, they are doing their job.

When it takes them three hours to get to your house because your mailbox was damaged or your license plates were stolen it's not because they're sitting somewhere eating donuts, it's because they're busting their asses working the rapes, robberies, meth labs, overdoses, child abuses, suicidal people, etc....you know...the "real" crimes.

But I thought she was better!

 

 

Yesterday I created my first ever "movie" on Window Live Movie Maker. Nothing fancy, just a collection of family photos to tell Brandi's story.  I wanted to put a link to the movie on my JDRF Ride to Cure page so people who we didn't know our family could get a better idea of my inspiration to ride, kind of the "a picture is worth a thousand words" concept.

Within minutes of posting a link on my Facebook page I started getting messages, SEVERAL messages from people who thought Brandi was no longer sick, which is definitely NOT the case.

Brandi asked me a few months ago to stop making so many posts about her. She didn't want to be seen as the "poor sick girl"and she definitely doesn't want anyone's pity. I understood and immediately stopped posting her day to day status. A person has a right to privacy and I didn't want to violate hers.

I was actually kind of surprised that Brandi agreed to let me upload the video, but she knows how important the Ride to a Cure is to me and how important the money I'll raise is to fund research for a cure, so she sucked it up and told me to go ahead.

Brandi is still very sick, she still lives the majority of her life in bed and she still needs a transplant.
Her diabetic alert dog has been a great tool to help us stay on top of Brandi's blood sugar levels but she still uses an obscene amount of insulin, and although Hope has become part of our family she is still a tool, not a cure.

I will do everything in my power to raise money to find a cure for diabetes, because a cure is what's needed,  not only Brandi but for Liam, Nettie, Cameron, Abbey, Gracie, Gus, Jack, Lauren... ALL of my friend's diabetic kids and every other diabetic as well. I'll walk until my feet bleed,  I'll ride until I fall off my bike in exhaustion, but I won't give up.

Ever!

No Words

I am overwhelmed. 

It doesn't happen often, but right now, at this very minute I am feeling absolutely overwhelmed and it's all because I was given one simple task:

Share what it's like for you or your loved one to live with Type 1 Diabetes.

Having diabetes is hard. Ask anyone who has diabetes and they'll tell you having to constantly watch what you eat and measure every carbohydrate you consume is a pain. Pricking you finger multiple times a day and taking shots throughout the day so you don't die isn't a great way to live, but at least it gives them a chance to live...so they do it. But let me tell you about something equally hard, being the parent of a person with Type 1 Diabetes.

When I held my daughter and looked into her beautiful face the first time I felt a love so strong and fierce that I knew instantly I would do anything to protect and nurture her. I imagined her first words, her first steps, her first day of school, her first dance, her first time falling in love, college, marriage, having children of her own.  I never in my worse nightmare imagined her losing her eyesight, having a heart attack, watching her as she lay in a coma, having seizures, having her internal organs become damaged so severely that she couldn't eat, or pee,or have a bowel movement without medical intervention.  I never thought the "fun years" of her life when she should be moving out of our home and into a college dorm would actually be spent laying in a hospital bed fighting for her life. I never, EVER imagined my 22 year old daughter sitting me down and telling me what music she wanted played at her funeral, or if she wanted to be buried or cremated.

If I knew then what Brandi's life was going to be like I never would have become pregnant...NOT because I wish she'd never been born, NOT because of the unbelievable financial burden, NOT because I don't love her with every fiber of my being, but because I DO love her so much and would never have knowingly subjected my child to the hell that she has to live with every single moment. For five years I have watched my daughter fight to stay alive, I've watched her in tremendous pain and I've seen the fear in her eyes. I watched her suffer and I haven't been able to take any of it away.

That's why I'm going to participate in the 2013 Ride to Cure, because it's something I CAN do to help her and millions of others whose lives have been disrupted by this monster we call Diabetes.  I want to feel the physical pain of training, I'll use it as a reminder of the pain she feels every day. I want the sweat to drip off me because it reminds me of the sweat that drips off the diabetic child when their blood sugar reaches dangerously low levels.  I want feel the burn in my legs because it's a reminder of the burning sensation they feel when they have insulin injected into their body. I want to feel angry and overwhelmed when my body doesn't want to ride one more mile because my daughter feels angry and overwhelmed when her blood sugars are high and won't come down.

I'm suppose to share what it's like for our family but how do I find the words to express what I feel as I sit next to my comatose daughter doing nothing more than holding her hand, staring at her face, pleading with God to let her get better and offering my life in exchange for hers?  How can I make people feel the shock we felt when we were told her body was resistant to the insulin needed to keep her alive? How can I make them understand what it's like to be told your daughter will die without a pancreas transplant or the frenzied feeling I had as I called hospital after hospital who did these transplants and was told by every one of them that she didn't fit the criteria to be placed on their transplant waiting list because she was too sick? How do I relay the feeling of being told by our insurance company that even when we get her "well" enough to receive a transplant they won't pay for the surgery because they've deemed it "experimental"?

How do I communicate the experience of being told diabetes has caused such severe neuropathies to your child's internal organs that her body no longer is able to absorb the nutrients in the food she eats, or what it's like to have your daughter tell you her heart feels like it's going to explode because it's beating so fast? How do I make them understand what it's like to watch your healthy, robust child become a walking skeleton of only 93 pounds?

How can I possibly make people understand what it's like to have your grandchild cling to you crying as the paramedics load her mother into an ambulance, or trying to find the right words when this precious child ask if her mommy is going to die?

How do I make people feel what it's like to sit in a dark room sobbing in despair at the thought of losing the person who makes my life worth living?

There are simply no words.

So instead I'm going to ask my friends and family to click on the link below and make a donation to my Ride to a Cure page. $1, $5, $100...as much as you can give, every single dollar helps me reach my goal. I've listed $2000 as my goal but if I'm being truthful I have to tell you that's not what I want to raise...I want to raise $50,000. I want to make a difference not only for Brandi but for the diabetic children of my friends and people I've never met. I want to help wipe this disease off our planet and have it only remembered in history books.

Please help me make a difference and then share this blog with all of your friends, and ask them to share it with all of their friends. Help me get the word out, help me get Brandi's story out.

Help me make a difference.

http://www2.jdrf.org/site/TR/Ride/JDRFNationalRides?px=1378497&pg=personal&fr_id=2244

There's nothing so bad...

When I was a young girl my father always told me, “Don’tbelieve anything you hear and only half of what you see.”  I didn’t understand what he was trying totell me so one day he took me to a house, parked across the street and asked me what color the house was.  I looked atthe house and told him it was green.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Looking at him like he had lost his mind I assured him the house was green.

“Why do you think it’s green?”  he asked.

“Umm…because it’s GREEN. I’m looking at the house daddy, I know what the color green looks likeand that house is definitely green.”

“So because you’re looking at one side of a house you’re saying the whole house is green?  Whatif the  back is white, or pink, or blue? What if that part that you can’t see isn’t anything like the part you can see? Looks can be deceiving sis, what you think you see and your perception of what is true isn’t always accurate.  Is the house green…maybe, but then again maybe it’s not. The important part isto step  back from the moment, look at a situation from different angles, get all the information you possibly can and then you can make a definite statement, because sometimes things are not as they appear.”

I’ve carried that lesson with me through life, sometimes I’ve followed it and sometimes I’ve run head long into believing something and later found out it was not true.

The other thing my father instilled in me was the importance of honesty. He believed a person’s word was their honor and as far as I know he never lied to me…EVER (not counting birthdays and Christmas of course.)  If something could hurt me he just never brought it up, but if I came to him and asked he would tell me the truth.  Often the truth was not what I wanted to hear, but it was delivered in a loving and gentle way and we would talk about it in depth, explore our feelings about the topic, and  find out in the great scheme of things exactly how important this information was.

My first mother –in-law was the same as my dad and I wouldoften hear her say, “There’s nothing so bad that a lie won’t make it worse.” Andshe was right.

A few weeks after my first husband died I received a call from my mother-in-law.  We had remained close after Denny and I had divorced and spoke with each other on an almost daily basis, but I knew something was wrong by the tone of her voice. I don’tthink I’d ever heard that serious of tone come from her.

She told me that day that Denny had another child, a son whowas now an adult. She told me that none of them knew until the day of his funeral…including the son, but she had met him and it was true.

I was furious, not because Denny had a child with another woman, but because he had abandoned it and not taken responsibility for his actions. He’d denied this child his right of ever knowing his biological father, he had denied me the right of ever having a relationship with him, and he denied DJ and Brandi the right to know their brother.  He didn’t give us a choice…any of us…and that wasn’t fair. So many people were hurt by one lie. Now the truth was out and Ryan wanted to meet the brother and sister he never knew existed.

I called Denny’s son right away and introduced myself. I don’tremember what all was said but I do remember that he seemed nice and I felt terrible. He assured me he had a good life, a wonderful mother and a father he adored. He had been as shocked by the information as we were, but we both agreed we should all meet.

When the kids came home from school I sat them down and told them the truth. It was hard and I didn’t have all the answers to their questions, but I told them we would be meeting their brother within a few days, and we did.

DJ and Brandi have a great relationship with their brother;they talk with each other often and see each other whenever they can manage toget together. Ryan is a wonderful man, and where he could have a heart full ofbitterness he instead has a heart full of love. I’m grateful for that, I’mgrateful for him. Knowing him, LOVING him, has been a blessing to our family.

I'm not one to talk about deeply personal family matters in such an open forum, but this time I'm making an exception to help two people I love deeply. One person is at a crossroad and either path they choose is going to be hard, but I'm urging them, BEGGING them to do the right thing and take responsibility for their actions. A lot is at stake, lives will be changed, relationships may be irrevocably damaged if the right path is not taken. Just tell the truth so the healing can begin.

To the other person involved I'm asking you to remember that even though you're lost, confused and in unbearable pain now it WILL get better, but a big part of the healing process will be you finding a way to forgive. You're not alone, I'm here for you, you are loved and we'll make it through this mess together.

Sometimes it takes years for the truth to come out, but italways does. I think that was why my dad was always so careful to be honestwith us, because he knew that the truth may be bad, but a liewould only make the situation worse.

Pancakes

In the words of an old Millie Jackson song, I'm depressed as shit. 

I'm not talking clinical depression, my best friend and one of my sisters suffers from that monstrous disease and it's nothing like what I feel.  I just have good old fashioned- my dad died and I miss him like hell every single second - depression.  Of course it didn't help that his death was immediately followed by an extremely painful case of shingles and a kidney stone. That made me stay in bed for a week which allowed uninterrupted wallowing in grief and pain.

Once I was released to return to work I accepted every minute of overtime I could. I need to be kept busy...crazy busy...and the exhaustion that follows an 18 hour work day is welcomed right now. I'm having trouble sleeping, and by trouble I mean I'm not sleeping...at all.  It's a little better now that I'm back at work, I'm able to sleep four hours a night now. Not four hours straight, but still it's better than nothing.

I'm praying this horrible depression is because my birthday is a few days away. I'm not depressed about turning 50, as a matter of fact until my father died it was a day I looked forward to with eager anticipation. Now I dread it because it will be the first time in 32 years that I won't receive a phone call from my father singing Happy Birthday.  I know it sounds silly, like a little thing...but it's a BIG thing to me. It was always the best part of every birthday.

My daughter worked really hard planning a surprise party for me and I tried to be happy...I really did...but I felt no joy in my heart. Of course I was also in a lot of pain..but I think mostly it was just being sad.

I need to snap out of it. I know it's a long process and I will always miss my dad...but I'm no good to anyone like this and it certainly isn't what my father would want. So I decided to start the healing process with pancakes. I've been craving them for a week and this morning I had three of them...drenched in warm syrup...for breakfast.  No, they aren't on my diet, but I don't care. The pancakes made me feel better, and right now my main goal is to feel better.

I had...HAVE... a lot of great plans for this year. My first marathon, raising money for diabetes research by riding 100 miles in the JDRF Ride to Cure, walking a 50 mile marathon to celebrate my life and show people that 50 is just a number, more fundraisers to help pay for Brandi's diabetic alert dog and pancreas transplant...all important things, all things I'd discussed with my father...all things that made him proud of me for being advocate, an independent woman, a devoted mother, and a survivor. I have a lot to work to do if I'm going to meet any one of those goals, let alone all of them.The most important of all of these is the Ride to Cure. My daughter is diabetic, my father was diabetic, two of my brothers and my best friend are diabetic.  My granddaughter and son are at high risk for developing diabetes. This insidious disease is working it's hardest to destroy those I love most, so I must work even harder to destroy diabetes. I will not, CAN NOT, rest until there is a cure and my loved ones are safe.

I've always told people that happiness is a choice.  You CHOOSE to be happy even when faced with horrible events, illness...even death.  Life is precious and it shouldn't be wasted by moping around in a life long pity party. I know, I've had horrible things happen in my life, I still have horrible things in my life.  My daughter is still critically ill, I'll always be afraid my cancer will return, we still live paycheck to paycheck and have outrageous medical bills,  I see the worse part of humanity every day...but I'm going to follow my own advice and CHOOSE to be happy.

It's what my father would have wanted.