Then there was nothing but silence..

They were sitting at the table, facing each other. The television was playing loud, showing a cycling event, and I could hear the comments of the reporters, making jokes and keeping a good eye on the cyclists at the same time.

They were quiet, having their prespread sandwiches. She got up from the table, shambled towards the bathroom, her bowl of soup in her hands. I sat on the bed and watched her manners. She would empty the bowl in the toilet, flush and come back to the table, to finish her early dinner. They sat there, in complete silence. He was looking at me, winking and I could see the corner of his mouth curl up. He continued to take little bites from his sandwich. I asked them what cold cuts they had been given. They had no idea. They forgot, I guess. They were not interested either. He said he preferred making his own sandwiches at a time that was more appropriate to be called dinner time.

A friendly lady walked into the room. She was in a hurry, I could tell. "Are you finished," she asked, while she was clearing the table. Maybe the answer was not important to her, since she didn't await the answer. Dinner was over. Time to take that handkerchief and wipe their mouths. She shuffled back to the bathroom to flush the toilet again. I asked why she got rid of the soup. She said she hated soup. She did like buttermilk porridge though.. I urged her to talk to the head nurse, to see if she could have porridge instead of soup. She gave me that special look, that needed no further explanation. I dropped the subject..

He was still sitting at the table, picking up little crumbs that were left on his placemat. He gathered as many as he could, to pile them up in one corner. She sat down again, waiting for the evening to come. Pretty soon, one of the nurses would come in to help them get into their jammies. It was only 5:00 PM. There wasn't much to say. It was not an unpleasant silence though. They didn't need words to understand one another. They had been together for so many years, they knew what the other was thinking. They looked outside the window, to see nothing but a dull wall and a garbage bin. I kissed them on the cheeks. I rubbed their back and wiped away a tear that had been stinging in the corner of my eye. I left their room, thankful for the love they felt for each other. Thankful, that at least they were together. Things could've been worse. They could have spent their days in a room with a total stranger, in a totally different kind of silence. Their silence was comforting. It was not to be dreaded..

I still miss you.. I miss your wisdom, your strength, your ability to be without speech.

Born again

Sometimes in life, we do things or make choices we later regret. No matter what led us to making that choice, we should hold ourselves responsible. There may be circumstances where one could say: I honestly believe you had such a rough time that you saw no other way than to do what you did. Of course there where other solutions, but you were either not ready to see them or you chose to pursue the only way you knew. It takes courage to change your ways and perseverance to go on. Giving up will most certainly have been a possibility that crossed your mind. Something or someone must have given you the strength to give up your addiction and start all over. With a family of 5 children, things needed to change. You were about to loose your job over your addiction and that would've been a total disaster. Your children have only known you as a father that was never present. They missed a dad, being there for them. They remember you as being away or claiming the couch because the alcohol had made you sleepy. The day you gave up drinking, your children were no longer children. They already had a life of their own. Have you set an example to your children? Did you ever talk to them about what an addiction means to your family? It's been 21 years now, since you have sobered up. I met you 19 years ago and I've never seen the drunk man you were before. Every Monday, you meet with your fellow friends to talk about your addiction. I don't know all of the steps in the plan, but is there a step that teaches you how to talk about your addiction with your family? Are you never afraid one of your children will become an addict as well? I know it scares me.. They say kids mimic their parents. If you grow up with a parent who thought drinking is a normal way of life, does that make you more vulnerable to getting an addiction yourself? Is the drinking a way of dealing with problems and emotions? How do you deal with issues if the only way you know, is loosing yourself in alcohol..

I'm happy you have been sober for 21 years. It gave you a different life. You have been given a second chance to be born again. I hope you are happy with the choices you have made. It was to the benefit of your family. Has it been beneficial to you too?

Jibber jabber

I can't believe it's snowing again..
     Don't you just hate snow?
I know.. people get depressed and they no longer want to come out of bed.
     What do you think about it, Rita?
I'm not listening to your babbling, what were you saying?
     Hey missie! Is that an iPad you are working on?

I nod and I smile and I keep typing. Three pairs of male eyes are watching me. I can feel their presence and their staring. They are not used to having an intruder in their hangout. They are trying to figure out why I am sitting there, having my cup of chicken soup (I hate it when the water isn't hot enough, leaving lumps of concentrated powder in my mug) and tapping the keys on my tablet.
Rita is nice. She smiles at me. From the corner of my eye, I can tell her hair has got thinner since the last time I was there. I wonder if she's feeling well. I can see her scalp through the almost white strands of hair. I know I will never ask her about her health. We don't converse like she does with her other clients. They have beers and she sips her coffee. She gives them another draft and their voices get louder and harsher by the number of beers they have.
I keep typing. I check Facebook. The comments on the diabetesforum I frequent are numerous tonight. Rita asks me if I want another mug of soup. On the house, she says. I'm not looking forward to having another lukewarm soup, but I smile back at her. She looks tired. I overhear her conversation with the man near the coffee machine. She says she wants to close the pub. She's tired. She's had enough. The man agrees and puts his hand on her arm.

Two of the regulars are leaving. They ask me if I can add them on my friendlist on Facebook. I think they are funny. I also think they have had one beer too many. One of them has a vulgar laughter. He can't find the lock on his car door. Like I said.. too much beer.. Do you think someone is waiting for him at home? I don't think so. Why would he spend his time with Rita? Because of the beer? Because of Rita? Who knows..

It's time for me to go. I put away the iPad and I pay for my soup. I won't go back for a while. I hope Rita will still be there when I come back..

Am I going to die?

Of course I am! Aren't we all going to die? Isn't that the circle of life?

I'm not joking. These questions are being asked. Not recently, not that I remember, that is. But they have been asked. If the diabetes is going to kill me... Ten years ago, I would have answered: I guess so.. Because I didn't know any better. I thought my body would deteriorate in no time. My endocrinologist told me about kidney failure and amputations of the limbs. She told me that blindness is one of the most common complications of diabetes. Well guess what: she was wrong! Diabetes does NOT lead to these awful complications. POOR diabetes treatment does... 

Can you understand why it's so important to diabetics (sorry for the word, but it types faster than people with diabetes) to get good control? Why they aim for good bloodsugars? It's not that we are so fond of poking our fingers multiple times a day or because we love to jab needles into our bodies.. Trust me: there are wilder things in life to keep busy. Bare with us, if the flunctuations in our bloodsugar play tricks with us. I realize it's hard to watch us go through a low episode and loose complete control. It's not something we challenge to happen. We don't dare ourselves to get lows. I admit, we may be a little crazy, but lows are not exactly the best party ever. We prefer numbers in the 70-140 range, just like you do, but guess what? It's not up to us. There are so many reasons why our blood decides not to act like we want it to act. It's not just about dosing insulin. It's a whole lot more...

Valentine's Day is coming up. I want to thank my husband, for baring with me. I want to thank him for letting me be his wife with diabetes. I'm grateful that he doesn't interfere in my D, because after all: it's MY diabetes and it's my job to control it. It's always a bonus if you can talk about your insecurities with your partner or share your concerns. It's good to have someone around in case of .. well.. in case of... you know what. But you know what? I live day by day. I don't let negativity take over. So many things can go wrong, I am well aware of that. But guess what? So many things can go right...  Why waste all that precious time worrying and sobbing over things we cannot control? Why can't we just make the most of it and do the best we can? There's so much more to life than diabetes. Really...

In labor

The moment I heard about this video, I wanted to see it. Men are such wussies when it comes to pain. Their pain threshold is very low, not to say extremely low. Just thinking about a painful situation, makes their stomach twirl and cramp together. I don't know why this is, but I hear it from all of my friends. They all accuse their partner of being a 4 yo toddler when it comes to experiencing pain. They need your full attention, they want to be tucked in and you have to kiss them on their forehead, like their mother would do. Even a simple cold keeps them in bed and they couldn't care less about household chores. They want you to wait on them whenever they feel the need for a mug of hot tea with a spoonful of honey and some pain killers. At a certain point, you are ready to call an ambulance and have them pick up your patient. For it is too much to witness.

You can't feel sorry for them, as their overreaction is just pathetic at times. Isn't it hilarious how they take a look at themselves in the mirror over and over again, to check the paleness of their face and how droopy their eyes look? They want you to hold their hand when they feel nauseous and rub their back when they start to gag. They want you to wipe their sweaty forehead and tuck a second pillow under their shoulders.. Boy oh boy.. are they lucky wives are good nurses.. We are used to dealing with children in pain. We don't freak out when we have to clean dirty bums or wipe away vomit from the couch. We go to work with sore tummies that certain time of the month, without blinking even once. We massage our own neck when it's hurting and we are capable of putting on a band aid to cover that deep cut in our finger without passing out. We know where to find the first aid box and we make sure medical supplies are present. Have you seen us make funny faces when we have a spoonful of cough syrup? And no, it isn't cute or charming. It's not even entertaining when they tell their relatives about that awful disease they endured. You can see rolling (female) eyes when they exaggerate the degree of their illness. Us women understand.. we know what a pain in the bum male patients are. I have so much respect for nurses in the ER. They probably face that terror every day. When you hear words like "euthanasia" when your husband is having an ailment, just run while you still can. Don't give in. Don't pamper him! If you do once, you are lost forever..

Brave people

Some people are so brave they make me humble. I'm so proud of my sister-in-law. This is her story..

"You have a pseudo malignant tumor in your pancreas" 

That sentence will be printed in my brain forever.

When you hear this diagnosis, you get hot and cold at the same time. Thousands of questions swarm through your mind. I promised myself one thing though: I will keep on thinking positively and no matter what scary things will cross my path, I will survive this disease! These lines became my daily mantra.

The agreement at first, was to remove a small part of my pancreas. Three days after the operation, they wheeled me back into the OR. That's when they removed my complete pancreas. The good news was: there were no metastases. The first thing I asked the professor was: Is it possible to remain alive without a pancreas? "It is", he replied. The magical word!

I had a rough time in hospital. It were 14 days full of pain, sorrow, anxiety and loneliness. It may sound cliche, but that hard time made me reflect as well. I now know there's more beyond our physical body. That insight gave me the comfort that I'm no longer afraid of death. I have lost my fears...

The doctors told me this disease is rare and unique at the age I got diagnosed. It was very exceptional that I had felt the pain. Under other conditions, it would have been lethal. This must have been my destiny. My soul had other plans for me on this planet. Now that I have lost my pancreas, I'm depending on insulin and I must make sure my blood glucose is kept within range. An insulin pump helps me provide that insulin throughout the entire day. But hey! I'm still alive! I was given a second chance. I've been lucky.

Things have changed rapidly from then on. I got out of a relationship that didn't make me happy. My employer fired me after 13 years of good service. I started a training in health, healthy food and lifestyle. I met my boyfriend who has been wonderful to me. He is working in healthcare and he has accepted my condition completely. When I saw an advertisement in the region my boyfriend lived in, I applied for the job instantly. The company I started working for, produces vegetarian and  organic food. That's entirely consistent with my vision on life. I have been working in this company for 6 months now and it feels great. All pieces of the jigsaw have come together. I live and work in an environment that feels like a second glove ; my boyfriend has become my soulmate.

Would I have had the same future if I hadn't become sick? I don't think so. I don't believe in coincidences. Once you no longer have the burden of the anxieties, things will cross your path. Let your heart lead you. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger..

It's gonna be one of those days

Working long hours in a restaurant, my employer had this bright idea: why didn't I go to school, one day a week? Wouldn't I like that? hmhm... I wasn't quite sure. I was no longer a teenager, you know. He wanted to send me to a highschool where kids who are not at all interested in school, go to, to finally get their diploma. But hey, what the heck. It could be an adventure huh?

The first class was wine knowledge. I still remember the teacher: big (not large, just big), bold and absolutely very brave. Why brave? Well, he talked for three hours in a row, while his students were absolutely not interested. I was very busy studying my classmates. I saw one boy with an open umbrella over his head, chewing too many pieces of gum, his legs stretched under his desk. He had no idea what the teacher was talking about, because his ears were listening to heavy metal - we could hear the base in the background. Apparently he had opened his umbrella for he claimed the teacher spit saliva when speaking. OMG.. I was appalled by that remark..

The next time we had that same teacher, I was ready to take notes, when I recognized some episodes from the last class. I frowned and pointed my ears, to make sure I heard it allright. But he did it again! This class was the exact same as the previous one! I decided to ask the teacher about his teaching method..

He was surprised to hear my comments. He said: Finally! Someone has noticed my way of teaching.. He told me about his students. How they were not interested in his classes. That he had to give the same class three times in a row, to make sure the students had soaked up some of the information he had to share. I felt sorry for him.. How can you be motivated as a teacher if the school kids have no interest in whatever you have to say? I thought he was very brave.. I don't remember anything about his classes, but I will never forget his perseverance and his devotion to keep on teaching.

It's my life

This month, I have 3 workshops on diabetes coming up. On 2 occasions, I will be telling about my life with D, informing the audience on what life with D is like. Most of the people in the audience are not diabetic and I often wonder what drives them to come listen to these seminars. Is it because a loved one is affected by the disease or is it because diabetes has become epidemic? Whatever it is, there's always quite a crowd who's interested in hearing more on the subject. To me, it has become my second nature to talk about this subject and I like to inform people and let them know life with diabetes is worthwhile.

For the first time, I'm going to give a totally different kind of workshop. Since I love to spend time in my kitchen, I have been asked to give a cooking workshop for people with diabetes. I don't eliminate sugar in my recipes, for I am convinced that diabetics can eat whatever they want, as long as they eat with moderation and stick to portion control. As long as they are not heavily obese and their numbers are within range, there are plenty of possibilities. So this workshop is not going to be any different. I won't use sweeteners but my recipes will be low carb. The audience will have diabetics as well as non diabetics. I'm thinking of the Type 2 diabetics who are not treated with insulin. They have a harder time straightening out their condition. They have no insulin available to cover for the extra carbs. So I tried to come up with recipes that are low carb so their sugars won't skyrocket. The group will be very diverse: children, adults, men, women, diabetics and non-diabetics. I have no idea how large the group will be, but it doesn't stress me out. I'm prepared and there will be plenty of volunteers to help out. It took me some time to figure out recipes that don't require cooking or baking (I have no oven or stove available), but I managed. I'm looking forward to this event. The location is absolutely magnificent and guess what? I'm proud I have been asked to give this workshop!

What's in a name..

My first boyfriend had this amazing car (yes, the sports car on the right). It was a flashy green Triumph Spitfire. It was great fun to ride it as a passenger. I remember we drove it to my sister's wedding. The weather was beautiful and we didn't bring the hard top. I thought we were pretty amazing in that convertible!

Imagine my excitement when I finally got my driver's licence. I wanted a Triumph too! And when my father told me, his body shop had a Triumph for sale, I wanted it. He told me it was in good shape and it had a golden color. I handed him my savings (75.000 bfr. at the time - and yes, that was a lot of money for me) and he went to pick up my car. I couldn't wait for him to come home so I could see the car and go for a ride. I heard him pull up in front of the house and I rushed outside. O.M.G.... that was no Triumph!!! I was so upset! Who said I wanted that shitty car??? It was not golden: it was the color of runny diarrhea! It was not a convertible! It was not even a sports car! Oh yes, it was a Triumph alright.. Really. It was quite similar to the Honda Accord. Absolutely not the car I had in mind. But I had paid for it and I couldn't take it back. What a bummer.. That car has cost me so much money. It needed a bottle of oil a week. A week! I was a student at the time, working hard on the weekend in a restaurant, to earn some money. It took a lot of gas too. A full tank would last for 200 kms before the red light appeared, warning me to get gas. Absolutely not the best buy ever.

A little while ago, that first boyfriend got married. When I saw him in that wonderful Spitfire, it warmed my heart. It was not flashy green this time. It was deep blue and it was definitely not a Triumph Acclaim..

Lemon Chiffon or Haitian Vanilla?

Photo Lana Joos

We didn't have any fancy name for our wedding cake. Nobody asked how luscious the filling should be or what topping we wanted to spread on top of the cake. Did I worry about that? Absolutely not. Our wedding was simple and basic but we didn't need an expensive wedding party to celebrate our marriage. The only thing that was important, is that we were able to invite the people that really mattered. It didn't matter the wedding cost was still too high for our budget. After all, we paid whatever debt we had and we were proud that we didn't need anybody else to jump in for us. In that way, we were able to choose whatever we wanted for our wedding. And that did not include silver plates or relatives we had never seen before.

Do you honestly think exquisite Lemon Chiffon pies make marriages a better deal? Our guests didn't mind the fact that we had a huge BBQ for dinner, in some local parish hall. After all, they came to see us and have a good time together and that's exactly what they got.

Happy 17th Anniversary Hubby.. 

Before you say "I do"

We got to know each other at the age of 16 - 17, I guess. We worked in the same amusement park during the holidays. I had been working there for a while, when you got in on your first working day. I thought you were pretty special. You were bilingual: Dutch and French. I liked that. You were goodlooking. I liked that too. You had a great sense of humor and I looked forward to having a good time with you. We became friends real fast and we liked to hang out together at work. At a certain time, our friendship turned in to a relationship. We were good friends and we were good as a couple. We didn't cling too much though. There was plenty of freedom in our relationship. Sometimes we hung out together, sometimes we didn't. I liked to hear from you. We didn't have cell phones nor Internet back then. I don't really remember how we kept in touch. I wasn't allowed to go out yet so seeing each other wasn't easy. We went to different schools in different towns and your hometown was no more than a 15 minute drive, but we couldn't meet up in each other's house either. So getting to see each other was quite an organization and pretty exciting. You were my first real love.. I loved you for so many reasons. But I always knew we were never going to get married. I thought you were too goodlooking. The girls turned their heads when you walked by to take a second look. You were no brat or show off, you had no attitude about it. You were just you.. a very good friend and my big love...

I went to Highschool and we lost track of each other. I never forgot you though. I can still smell your perfume and a smile appears on my face when I think of your broad smile and sparkling eyes. I'm over you, don't worry. A certain moment and an unexpected encounter made sure I got over you. It's just that your first love will remain special for the rest of your life.

Every now and then, we read things about each other on the social network sites. I could see you were in a relationship and the girl you were dating was really your type. But then you announced your wedding, the morning of your wedding day. I was amazed! OMG! You were really getting married! Do you remember how we would say: never get married before the age of 40? I never thought you would actually take that as a fact. You're turning 41 November 27th. A good age to settle down and enjoy your wife. I wish the two of you all the luck in the world. You will always be in my heart. Because that's what happens with your first big love. They remain in your heart forever..

He called me a Minx????

I remember the first time I met JayJay. I had just visited my diabetes nurse in the hospital and leaving her office, I saw this young man reading a magazine in the waiting room. He was dressed real well, his hair all black and shiny, skinny jeans and shirt ironed perfectly and wearing flip flops. Know what I mean? Exactly.. My nurse asked me to wait a little longer, because there was a diabetes workshop a little later that day. So I chose a comfortable seat in the waiting room, opened my purse and looked for my book to read some more.

Shortly after that, my nurse left her office, accompanied by that same young man. I saw them coming right at me. She left the man beside me and we introduced ourselves. I invited him to join us for the workshop - after all, we shared that same D-sease. He refused at first, because Sales started that day and he wanted to do some shopping. The workshop was not going to start for 2 more hours, so he had plenty of time to shop. I didn't expect him back though, because he was a bit reluctant to join in.

When he entered the meeting room, disturbing the crowd, presenting himself by: anyone willing to see what I bought?, I became his number one fan that day. Hahaha, what a great guy! I offered him the seat next to mine and let him babble. Because that's what he does: he babbles, he's witty, he's good looking and fun to be around. His Indian roots make him even more interesting.

Without knowing, we shared a mutual friend. Another diabetic.. Can't believe so many friends of mine are diabetics! So we thought it was a good idea to do some shopping together, in Antwerp of course. Where else? We had a wonderful day. A day we wanted to do over some time later.

I was talking to JayJay the other day, when all of a sudden he called me a Minx. A what? Exactly, that's what I said too. I had to look it up. See for yourself. And it's okay. He can call me a Minx. It flattered me somehow, hearing it from his mouth..

Sit back and enjoy the ride

About three years ago, I took care of a young lady, pregnant with her first child. At the age of 6, her life changed completely when she got sick. The diagnosis said Friedreich's Ataxia. It was not a very hopeful diagnosis, certainly not if you get it at such a young age.. I got interested in this condition and searched the Internet to get more information. That's how I met Paula and Tom Hook from La Porte, Indiana. United States, exactly. They have three wonderful girls. Two of them have FA, just like Jody. They got diagnosed as adults, meaning the disease won't progress at the same speed. Paula and I have kept in touch over the years and every now and then we mail and tell each other more about what keeps us going. On several occasions, she has invited me and my family to spend our holiday at their ranch. That sounded so appealing! Unfortunately we have not been able to go see them yet. One day... one day...

You had a dream from the day you turned 12. You promised yourself, that one day, you would go to the United States. I recognized that feeling, because I shared that same dream. We discussed this dream on several occasions. It was hard for you to believe that dream would come true. Until the plans started to get more concrete. I introduced you to Paula on Facebook. The two of you got acquainted and you liked each other. You told her about your dream and your wish to improve your English. You were looking for a job in exchange for room and board. There's always work on a ranch... and there's plenty of space for you to stay. If you know what I mean..

You're leaving July 10th and you won't be coming home till August 6th. It will be your first trip abroad, your first flight, your first time away from home on your own. You will love it. All excited and hyper, you will get on that plane. Your heart will be pounding way too fast, just like mine did 20 years ago on my way to Portland, Oregon. It will be an experience of a lifetime. You are lucky this family will welcome you into their home. They are lucky to have you over and experience a wonderful time with you.

Sit back and enjoy the ride. Open your ears and eyes and let all of your senses indulge the United States. It's not a coincidence you ended up with the Hook family.. before you know it, you will be "hooked" to the States.. Keep us informed, okay? We expect no less than 1 blog a day, to hear all about your adventure.

is it okay to be gay?

Over the years, different people have crossed my path. Men, women, older people, younger people, single people, divorced people, families. Each one of them with their own personality, their own preferences and choices in life. I love meeting all different kinds of people, because I'm sure they can teach us so much about life and love.

Some of my friends are straight, others are gay. I even have a girlfriend who loves both men and women. Big deal. Who are we to judge? They are who they are and I hope they are "man" enough to live up to their believes. It must be horrible if you must live your life a lie, because you can't tell your friends or family who you really are.

There's this program on Dutch television: Out of the closet. I like to watch it with the girls. They have no problem with gays either. Why would they? After all, it's not like your preference for men/women is something you can choose, is it? And even if it were: who are we to dislike you for being who you are?
On the last show, this guy was going to tell his friends and family, that he fancied boys. The reporter asked his friends what they thought of gay people. Let's say their comments were not really flattering. Going from: I don't like gay people, over: I don't mind as long as they keep their hands of me, to: I would turn my head if I would spot one. Then this young man tells his friends he needs to make a confession. One of his friends jokes: now don't tell me you're gay! The silence in the room was nerve wrecking. The young man asks his friends to hear him out and he tells them about his preference for men. One of his best friends instantly says: then I have nothing left to say to you.. That really broke my heart... How can your friendship change because of someone's sexual preference? Nothing wrong with that. It's not some disease you have to get over. It's not a choice you should change. It's a preference. It's about love. And it's not nasty. How can love be nasty? Yes, I get all hyped up if people say stupid things like that. I love my gay friends. They are very nice and loving and caring. Wouldn't want to miss them..

Shopping for men

This one is for my special friends. I was amazed to say the least, when I saw this documentary on Grindr. Wow.. a social network especially for men.To be more specific: for men shopping for men. Grindr is the perfect way to find a new date, a buddy or a friend.
Grindr is quick. Grindr is convenient and most of all: it's discreet. And if you want it to be anonymous, that's what you will get.
But what is it??? Well, it's an app that uses your mobile device's location-bases services to show you the guys closest to you who are also on Grindr. You decide how much information on yourself you are willing to reveal. Soho seems to be the Mekka for Grindr fans. So if you are looking into testing out the app, don't be surprised if some total stranger comes up to you to say hi and sign you up for a date!

Reach out and touch

Today is a day I tend to celebrate. For just one decade, I can call myself a sugarbee. Is that an honor? Probably not. Is it a diagnosis to feel embarrassed about? By no means. Was it my fault? Na-ah. Did it affect my life? For sure..
Even though I can't remember what my life was like without D, I remember my life wasn't the emotional rollercoaster it is nowadays. It has changed me. It has affected my family. It has brought me feelings I had not experienced before. Think f.e.a.r. I don't like to pronounce the word, since I don't like to be scared of anything, but yes, at times it scares the lightening out of me.
Let's go back to the day my endocrinologist (well from that day on, she became my endocrinologist - I never needed one before) poked my finger and decided I had Type 1 diabetes. To me, it didn't come as a complete surprise. To be honest, I was relieved. Finally a doctor who didn't think I was making a complete fool of myself thinking I had some weird disease. She knew it was diabetes and that it was serious business. I don't know what made her decide that I needed to see some footage on the possible complications of this chronic disease, but I can tell you: that documentary freaked me out. The images will remain present in my brain forever, I guess. I will spare you the details, but my diabetic friends know what I'm talking about.
So many people are proud of me for being so positive when it comes to diabetes. Well, there's not really another option, is there? I have my bad days and I have my flaws, but those keep hidden behind closed doors. I'm not the type of person that bursts into tears at home for not coping well. I try to keep it to myself or share it with other diabetics, who are real close to me. After all, they are the only ones who really understand, because they are in the same position. I need those conversations, I need those moments where I can fall apart and cry over a disease I never asked for. I'm only human, just like the rest of you. Writing this blog, I can feel the tears sting behind my glasses. I don't want to cry. I don't want to break down without an arm around my shoulder. So I swallow my tears and I revert this blog to draft until I'm ready to continue writing..
I do want to celebrate this day. So far, there are no complications. The always present fatigue is not painful, just a nuisance. The daily fluctuations wear me out and it's a fulltime job to keep my numbers within range. Not knowing why your numbers have risen too high, is so frustrating. They sometimes make me wanna yell and scream my lungs out. I really try hard to remain one step ahead of complications.  It is my responsibility, my disease, my obstacle in life. I have a hard time sharing my feelings - oh oh, there come the tears again - when it comes to D. If you have offered me your shoulder, if you have texted me on days where my numbers skyrocketed or if you helped me get over diabetic issues: thank you for being there for me. I hope I can be the same kind of friend to you.

You don't give up on the people you love

When this couple - they were celebrating their 65th (!) anniversary - was asked, what they had done to grow old together and still be in love?

It didn't take them long to answer that question. Practical simultaneously, they said: at least a cuddle a day, that's all it takes..

It's moving to look at the picture and see the love in the eyes of these two. The way he holds her hand and presses his lips against her fingers.. The pride in her eyes when she's looking at her husband.
I wonder what their story is. When they met. How old they were at the time. Whether they have raised children of their own. Were they fortunate in their life or did they suffer great losses? I'm curious to read more about this couple.
It's heartwarming to see that this way of life is paying off. It's obvious they are still in love.
I imagine them sitting on the couch, their fingers entwined. I can see her, pushing up her body with her fists pressed in the couch, to slowly shamble towards the kitchen. She asks him, in a soft voice, if he would like a cup of tea. His "yes love" was not even necessary, since she knew in advance what the answer would be. How she drops half a lump of sugar in his cup, pours the tea over it and stirs it with that small silver spoon she tends to polish on Thursdays. He hears the sound of the cookie tin and the grin on his face explains it all. He knows she has been baking his favorite thumbprint cookies that same morning and he knows she won't have any. He is the only reason she keeps baking. Her sparkling eyes glow even more when she sees how he carefully brings a cookie to his mouth. With her index finger, she wipes away a small crumble in the corner of his mouth. His mouth drops open and his eyes close. She puts away his cup of tea and covers his knees with a blanket she knitted a long time ago. Her head rests on his shoulder and a smile is to be seen on her face when she closes her eyes. The dishes can wait. This moment is golden. It's what keeps them together..

Till death do us part

He's a very successful, handsome young businessman. His life is exciting and he has managed to live his dreams. Madly in love with Carmen, they get married and they get along real well. Little Luna is their little princess and they love her to pieces. Every now and then, he meets other women and needs their love and approval to feel better about himself. Carmen knows about the cheating, but she forgives him for his enthusiasm and his boyish personality. 
Fate strikes. Carmen gets diagnosed with breast cancer. Although Stijn is very supportive of her, he has a tough time dealing with this struggle in their life. Roos is the woman he confides in. She comforts him and offers him a refuge, away from the cancer and away from his tormented family. He needs this escape from reality despite his deep love for Carmen. 
Carmen faces a breast amputation and her world falls apart. Stijn breaks up with Roos, to spend more time with Carmen. She won't live much longer and they agree to quit jobs and enjoy each other for the little time they have left. Carmen forgives him for the numerous affairs and he strokes her back when the chemotherapy makes her vomit at night. 
She's ready to leave for the other side and asks her husband to call a doctor. Euthanasia is her last wish.. 

This (Dutch) movie gave me the chills. The moment when Carmen had to say goodbye to their 5 year old princess, was devastating. I let my tears run wild. My blood sugars were totally messed up. I think I'll watch it again. "Komt een vrouw bij de dokter... "

The man cave

I honestly believe any man should have ownership to some sort of man cave. A place where he can retract and unwind and do whatever he feels like doing. Whether that is gaming or watching soccer on TV, hanging out with the dudes and share some beers. I'm not sure what men would want their man cave to be designed for, but I'm sure each one of them could come up with some ideas? It would definitely be meaningful for many guys out there.

Hubby has a place of his own. He calls it his shed and it's the place where he smokes his cigars and meditates about the day. There's no TV, no sixpacks of beer. He goes out to his shed several times a day. On his way over there, he collects the trash that needs to be dumped, fills up the dog food container. He sits on his little stool, rocking back and forth, enjoying his cigar. I never join him in his shed. After all, it's his man cave. I have no business being there. I want it to be his place.

If you ever plan on making your own man's cave, can you fill me in about your typical man activities? Or is that inappropriate for me to ask? Tell me to mind my own business. That's okay. I'm just curious. That's typical female..

Canine Companions

A couple of months ago, I got a private message from the owner of Valerie. Valerie comes out of a nest of six whippet females. Happens to be the same nest Inthe came from. So they are sisters. And they had not yet met. Like their owners..

I heard about this pasture in Antwerp. A place where dogs can run freely, without their leash. Sounded like a plan to me, since Inthe and Rebba love to race around and enjoy nature. When Nicole - the owner of Valerie and Dee - invited us to go for a walk in Linkerwoefer, I didn't hesitate. It just took us longer than expected. To my surprise, she had invited some other whippet owners as well. We ended up with 7 whippets! Fun!

Valerie, sister of Inthe

We had a great time. The sun was out, the place wasn't too crowded and all dogs behaved well. Whippets tend to be a bit racist at times and ours are no different for that matter. Since all of these beauties are whippets, there was no problem. They chased their tennis balls, sniffed each other's rear ends and fooled around. There were meadows to race on, woods to explore and water to cool down. A wonderful place and only a half hour drive. Worth the effort! Although my blood sugars were a bit on the low side all afternoon, the jelly beans did the trick. So we kept going and our tan got more red by the hour.

I enjoyed this outing. Thank you Nicole and Bartje, for the invitation. It was fun meeting you and the whippies. Soon is never far away. That's when we will meet again.

Robijn

Gaffa

Dee

Inthe

Vito

Rebba