I don't want to miss a thing

September 2007. Belgium finally has its own diabetes forum. Our little conservative country didn't think a diabetes forum could be of any use to anyone. Until this wonderful man from Holland decided to help us out and offered us a free forum, where we can exchange experiences, laugh, share emotions and advice one another.

I don't want to miss a thing. That's why I start my notebook as soon as I get up in the morning, to check the forum and see how my friends are doing. And very often, I'm the last to go to bed.

I have met nearly 50 members of our forum. With some, I have a more intense contact, but they are all special to me. I would like to meet all the active members and tell them: "Diabetes is ok. You can still have a life. It's no fun to have diabetes, but you will survive. We're here, to help you and stand by your side, when things are not going the way you want them to go. Don't let the diabetes rule your life, but take good care of yourself. We owe it to our bodies.."

Dear sugar babes, you are sweet.. Without the diabetes, we might never have met.

Arthur Kittynapped

When my friend got divorced, she couldn't take her tomcat with her. So he came to live with us and we have loved and cherished him from day one. Arthur is such a great cat and so much fun to have around.

One summer, the girls were going to summer camp and hubby and I booked a holiday in Sharm-el-Sheikh, Egypt. Our neighbour suggested to take care of our little household and pets. They were used to doing so and this year wasn't any different.

But the odds must have been against us.. Arthur and Fidias, his friend, got kittynapped by a cat-hater in the neighbourhood. We thought he was dead. We couldn't find him when we ca

me back and it was absolutely heartbreaking. The girls were inconsolable. They burned candles, wrote love letters to Arthur and taped those to the front window. We made posters with his picture, but nobody knew where Arthur was. We feared the worst..poisoning, traffic accident, some other painful death..

On the Internet, there is a website for missing animals. So we posted an add for Arthur, in the hope somebody knew where he were. After 6 1/2 weeks, I decided to delete the add, because I was convinced he would never come back. But Lana begged me to leave the add on the Internet for another week. She must have known Arthur wasn't dead!

A family contacted me that they had seen Arthur's add on the site and that they thought they had found him (just a couple of days before). Yes, his tail is always up, yes, his ear is torn, yes, he's a very loving cat. We were so nervous and we had to wait two more hours to go get him. Because the lady that found him, wasn't home at the time.

Arthur didn't recognise us anymore. He was skinny and you could see h

e had suffered a serious ordeal. But we loved him and we wanted him back. The people that had found him were sad to see him go. But they knew our kids wanted their beloved kitty back.

One more week later, Fidias was also found, in that same area, a twenty minute drive. Those cats didn't walk that far. Somebody had taken them. He must have thrown them out along the road. Just because he keeps birds and he hates cats. It is sad.. He must have been gobsmacked to see those two tomcats alive and kicking! Let's hope Arthur and Fidias have 6 more lives to go.

Whenever we go away now, Arthur frequents a hotel and he is taken care off. We no longer have to fear the kittynapper!

If you could only see..

If you could only see how well I am doing.

If you could only see that I'm a good person.

If you could only see that I'm doing just fine.

If you could only see that I'm happy.

If you could only see who I really am.

If you could only see that I did make something of my life.

If you could only see.. me.

Hold me now

Could you please hold me? Now? I'm inconsolable. I need your shoulder. I need you to tell me everything is going to be okay. I need those comforting words, in order to feel better. I thought I was over it. I thought I had accepted it a long time ago. But I haven't. And I'm scared, that I will never accept it.

It's been 7 years now. There still is no solution. Every day, more people are diagnosed with Diabetes. Every day, more lives are hustled upside down and torn apart. How many more times need I poke my fingers, to test my blood glucose? How many more catheters need to be shot into my tummy, to feed me insulin? 

Will I ever loose my eye sight? 

Are amputations still done when you don't take good care of your diabetes?

Is kidney failure my future?

Will a heart attack kill me, because I choose not to work out?

Am I doomed to a low carb diet for the rest of my life?

Will the insulin add more weight to my body, until I'm ready to explode?

Will my children inherit my bad diabetes genes?

So many questions and so little answers. For a century, the doctors have said the solution was going to be found within 10 years. Either they didn't attend maths in school, or they are liars.  

Because there is no cure, not yet. Until this day, Diabetes is for life. 

It's the only certainty in life, besides that one day we will die, just like anybody else. 

Diabetes follows me wherever I go. It never turns its back on me. It's always there, in the backseat of my life..

Shout

I am trying to figure out why I'm so allergic to shouting people. I just can't stand it when people shout at me or at someone else, especially children. What's the use? It's scary, in fact it may be pretty frightening for a child to be yelled at. As a reaction, the child yells back and then the yelling goes back and forth. It's damaging. Absolutely. It comes to a point where the child will no longer respond to the shouting noise. They won't hear it anymore, because they have become so used to it. It makes them numb.

I used to have a co-worker that would shout at me whenever she thought I did something wrong. It made me real small and I felt humiliated to be shouted at in front of my colleagues. She reminded me of my mother. I couldn't stand up for myself, not at work and not at home. It was painful to see, that people with a higher position could call me names and treat me bad. That's when I decided this had to stop. I did not intend to remain the little child that crawled in a corner of the room because it couldn't defend itself.

So I became more assertive. It's hard work and it takes a lot of practise. But it pays off. I haven't been shouted at for quite a while. And if someone tries to call me names, I tell them in a quiet voice I don't appreciate being cursed at. Most of the time that's sufficient.

Complicated

I'm a complex and complicated person. Most of the times, I don't understand me. I'm nearly 38 and I still don't have a goal in life. Who am I? What do I want from life? What aims do I have?

I'm not a bad person. I'm complicated. That's all. Not the easiest person to live with, I admit it. But I have many interesting facets and living with me is never boring. Just complicated..

Rag doll

I used to have a rag doll. It was a boy. He had real long legs, too long for its body. He had spiky, yellow hair and big bright eyes. He was stuffed with sawdust. I have had him for a very long time. He always kept me company in bed.

That particular year, I must have been 12 I guess, I went on summer camp. Packing my suitcases, my mom grabbed Rag doll and threw him on my bed. She said I was too big for dolls. My peers would make fun of me. It wasn't done!

I cried over it, in silence, when she had left the room. I couldn't go on summer camp without Rag doll. So I hid him in my back pack. That first evening in the camp house, we were to unpack. The girl next to me saw Rag Doll on the bed and she threw him in the air, yelling: somebody brought a doll to camp!!! How stupid and childish!! Everybody laughed and I was so embarrassed. They asked if Rag doll was mine. I said no.. They didn't believe me. They told me to clip his hair, to show them I didn't care and it wasn't mine. So I did. I cut Rag dolls hair.. He looked appalling. I didn't take him home. Someone must have trashed him.

I still miss Rag doll.. Nowadays, all teens sleep with dolls and stuffed animals. I would never ridicule them over their beloved cuddle. Kids can be harsh

Gotta be somebody

You've got to be somebody, right? I'm nearly 38 now and I still don't know who I am. For many years, I have tried to live the life other people wanted me to live. Until I met my husband. He never told me to be anybody else. I could be me. I could be somebody. But I still haven't figured out what that somebody should be like.. Anyone?

Take your suitcase and leave

Every time I didn't agree about something, you told me to pack my suitcase and leave. I have heard that sentence over and over, until that one particular day I had enough. So I told you I would pack my suitcase and leave. You replied: if you leave, you may never come back! And I gave up: if you say so..

So I went to my room and opened my dresser to see what I would take. I had no idea. What do you need when you leave the house that suddenly? I packed some pants and undies and a couple of shirts. I had no money, I had no place to go to, I had no job. But I left.. I had heard the suitcase sentence once too often.

Only two years later, when I was nearly 8 months pregnant, I went home again. Just to visit, because I had made my own life by then. You pretended nothing had happened and you didn't want to discuss the past. But you didn't make me feel at home. I didn't feel welcome. You never even asked about the two years you missed. You had no idea, but it didn't bother you at all.

The first time my husband told me to pack my bags and go, after we were in the midst of a firy discussion, I lost it. It all came back to me and I never wanted to hear that phrase again, and certainly not from my husband. He didn't have a clue. He knows better now. Nowadays, I only pack my suitcases to go on a holiday. And that's the only reason one should pack a suitcase..

Big me

I'm big. BIG! Not tall. Just big. Too big for my height. I've been too big for nearly 7 years now. I don't like mirrors, I don't like fitting rooms in malls, I don't like the XL label on clothes. I want to be slimmer. I want to lose weight.

I make healthy food choices most of the time. I have a fresh smoothie for breakfast, a salad for lunch and a warm meal in the evening (or the other way around, depending on who is home around lunch time). I hardly eat meat, I don't eat bread anymore, I skip on dessert.

Okay, I don't work out, because it frustrates me big time. Been there, done that, but it just doesn't work for me. I hate to exercise! I really do! If I'm forced to work out, you don't want to be around me. Because I'll snap at you and I will not be the nicest person to be around. I sweat and I get upset and sore. And sports leads to binge sessions and if there is something I want to avoid, it's the binge session.

My diabetes makes it more difficult to lose weight. Insulin is a hormone after all. I never had problems with my weight before and I always liked the way my body was shaped. My weight gain is one of the things I don't like about diabetes..

Does that mean that I will remain BIG for the rest of my life?

Smoking in the boy's room

I love the smell of cigars. Or no, not the smell of cigars, but I love it when somebody lights a cigar. Some restaurants offer cigars to their customers. They cut the cap for you and light it before they pass it on. It's intriguing to watch this ceremony. I can see why men like cigars. It's fascinating to see them inhale and blow circles of smoke in the air.

But there it stops. That's the point where I don't like it anymore.

Some restaurants have a boy's room section where they can smoke their cigars and drink port. I think that is a great idea. I don't like it when people smoke in the house or at the dining table. I don't like the smell of cigars on someones hands. I don't like the smell it leaves in your house the day after.

But hubby and some of our friends smoke. So maybe, we should get a boy's room. Because I do think it is rather charming.

The eye of the tiger

The other day, I told you about my first summer holiday in an amusement park. That was a real hard summer job. But I didn't stay unnoticed. I spent quite some after work time with the animals and the zoo keeper noticed me around. He asked if I liked animals and I couldn't do much else but agree. Animals fascinate me. They always have. I told him I was looking for another job in the park. I wanted to work with the animals. He liked me. He said he wanted to give it a shot. But he warned me that mopping the floor was not harder than taking care of the animals.

So I started my second summer job and I became a tiger tamer. My boss showed me how to bottle feed the baby tiger cubs. They were only a couple of days old and they were the cutest! I was so thrilled to get this job. I promised my boss I would do the best I could and I would love and cherish those cubs. Like a baby, the cubs had to be fed every three hours. I had a lot of work feeding all those open mouths. They got to know me pretty soon and I gave them names. I asked my superior if I could buy them pacifiers and he thought that was kind of silly, but he let me. So while I was feeding 2 cubs, the others were comforted sucking their pacifiers.

I taught them to lay down, sit up and follow me around. The public loved it! They came to see the cubs and I was very proud of my crew. After 6 months, the cubs were sold. I shed many tears, but I knew in advance this was going to happen. For 4 years in a row, I was a tiger tamer. It was the most exciting and loving job I have ever done.

Brussels by night

I don't see you very often and it's been a while since you came over here, but we do keep in touch. Once in a while, we make long phone calls or I stop by when I'm in the neighborhood. Whenever I plan to come over, you make sure that I can also meet your grandchildren and they have become pretty young ladies. One of them is even expecting her second baby!

All your life and time, you have dedicated to your children and more in particular your two granddaughters. You go to the gym, you take classes in languages and computer class. You look after your granddaughter's first child and so will you when the second baby will be there in July. You are a very modern nana! It's great to see you play with the toddler. You are also fond of our two daughters and they like to visit you.

We often discuss our diabetes and you even share your glucose strips whenever I run out.

I remember the time I was living all by myself and working 3 jobs. One job was a teaching job and I was not going to get paid until several months later. You helped me out, paying the rent of my teeny tiny apartment, until I was back on track and finally got the paycheck I had worked for. You never abandoned me.

I guess we have similar characters. We like to laugh and enjoy life. Life is too short to sob about things that aren't worth it.. I think you will agree whenever you read this.

I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I'm looking for low carb food. I love bread, but it has so many carbohydrates, that it makes my sugar spike and the need for insulin grows by the slice of bread I eat. So I gave up on bread.

In the US, there is such a large choice of low carb products. People over there know what low carb means. In Belgium, not many people know what carbohydrates mean to a diabetic. To me, eating low carb means better control, more energy, less tiredness. 

I keep looking for low carb meals to prepare, but most of the time I can't even find the ingredients over here. I still haven't found what I'm looking for. Maybe I should open my own low carb store over here?

The Husband Chair

Have you noticed, whenever you go shopping, that some men remain in their car, while their wife runs the errands? I always wonder why they don't join their wives? Why do these women bring their husband along, if he's going to stay in their car? Is it because they don't have a driver's licence ? Don't these men get bored or do they prefer staying in the car over strolling through the supermarket? 

Some stores have found a good solution for these men. I have seen it in clothes shops. I call it The Husband Chair. Husbands are supposed to wait in these chairs, while their women change clothes in the dress rooms. They are supposed to nod their heads when the lady shows off her colorful new dress. They are supposed to shriek their ooh's and aah's, even after the fifth dress up party. If they are lucky, some salesperson will bring them coffee and a cookie. But that will only be in the more expensive stores I guess. He can also keep all the shopping bags, the misses' purse, her cell phone that keeps ringing over and over, because her friends can't miss her and want to hear all about her day out. Sometimes I feel sorry for these men.. I really do. But why don't they just tell their wives they want to go home and watch the ball game or that they would rather sit on a bar stool having a beer with the mates instead of spending an afternoon in The Husband Chair? I haven't figured that out yes, I suppose..

Don't stand so close to me

I don't like it when people intrude my space without my approval. Some people really cling to you, physically but also mentally. They try to live your life, to the point where it becomes scary.

In therapy, I learned to set boundaries. Both physical and mental. We did this exercise, where two members of the therapy group stood in front of each other. This one person had to come up to you, without saying anything. You had to set boundaries, in how far he/she could approach you. But you couldn't speak. Both members had to use body language and try to be real firm about it. It was really hard. The person I did the exercise with, was a very goodlooking and tall man. I compared him to Bambi, because he was so gentle and kind. But as soon as he crossed my boundary in the exercise, he freaked me out. Even to the point where I burst out into tears. The poor guy! He never meant to scare me or intimidate me. He kept on apologizing to me, but he really didn't have to. Because he taught me a very valuable lesson in life. It made me realise that I was not very good at keeping people out of my personal space. And that was something I needed to work on.

I have noticed some improvement and I'm happy about that. You don't have to please the world. You don't have to be nice to everybody. If it doesn't feel good: make a statement!

Heaven is a place on earth

When I was about 11, my teacher told me that if I didn't behave well, I would go to hell. She scared me. I believed her. Heaven was only for good people. Not for me. I didn't deserve heaven, according to her.  I don't remember what I did, to make her say things like that. I was a child. Children believe what their teachers tell them. 

That's when I started to dislike church. That's when I gave up on religion. I didn't want to go to hell. I tried to be a good girl! I wanted to go to heaven!

So I straightened up. I planned on leading a good life. But then I realised I could make my own heaven, right here, right on this Earth. Bit by bit, I designed my own heaven on earth. And you know what? I don't need rice pudding and golden spoons to be happy. I don't need to be dead to live happily ever after.. I want to be happy now! I want to live now! 

How about that?

I remember you

It's been quite a long time, since we last saw one another. It's good to hear that you are doing real well. You are married to a beautiful lady. You have a son and a daughter and another baby is on the way. You haven't changed that much, looking at your pictures. It seems like yesterday..

We met on the ski slope in New Hampshire. We got acquainted and you were a pretty cool guy. You were fun to hang out with and we had a blast whenever we went out together. I got to meet your family and I still have my scrap books from back then. Strange, how things have evolved.

You were in the air force. I had to go back to Belgium, without you. But I came to your graduation in Texas. This long distance relation ship was doomed to end.. You lived over there. I would have done anything to come back to the States, but I never managed to do so..

I met my husband. His uniform looked a lot like yours. Because he was in the air force too. Different country, different army, but still the air force. And I had a deja vu. 

I'm happy now. I have a fine family. I'm sure you would like them and you and my husband could talk about the army together. 

I'm forwarding you the ring you once gave me. It belonged to your mother. I hope one day, your little girl will find the right man for her and she will wear the ring. 

You will always be special to me, because we had a great time together and you were a wonderful man. I'm happy for you, that you got married and raised your own family. I'm proud of you and I wish you all the best..

A clown with a mask

You were my teacher at the time. We were in a class of about 15 adults and you taught French. You were a very warm and gentle character. I liked you a lot. One day, you asked me to stay after class. You had to talk to me..

You said I was a clown, wearing a mask. There was so much grief and sadness behind the mask. Sadness you recognised. Grief you wanted to help me out with. We had long conversations. We understood one another. With you, I could be me. We kept in touch. You became my mentor. There is so much wisdom in the words you say and the gestures that don't remain unnoticed. Sometimes we would just hug and cry. They were not only tears of sadness. 

I always look forward to spending time with you: healthy luncheons, going for a walk, spend time in your cosy home, our long and illuminate talks. I have grown because of you. You made me look at me and evaluate myself. You told me I was a valuable person and I had so much talent. If only we could have our own business together. You could do what you were good at and I would do my part. That would be thrilling!

Thank you for your advice, your warmth and the strength you have been giving me over all these years. I miss you. I hope we will meet up again soon. Maybe in your new home?

Under pressure

Today I asked myself: what does pressure do to me? Do I perform better under pressure? Do I need pressure in order to do a better job? 

I know I don't like to be under pressure. I like to do things at my own paste. That doesn't implicate that I'd be slow, but I don't like it when people rush me. Because I want to complete a job without making any mistakes, so it needs some checking. 

I have worked in a sandwich bar for 6 months. Sometimes there were 30 customers at once and I was the only person to prepare and sell the sandwiches. But I did great and people didn't get aggravated waiting turns. But I got stressed alright. And my blood sugar is the best meter: my sugar level goes real high when I'm under pressure. I need more insulin to bring it down again. 

But there were also times, that my blood glucose was really low when I was working under pressure. Chewing on sugar lumps kept me going, but what a relief when all the customers were served and out of the shop. Then I could fall to pieces and have some lunch..

Conclusion: I'm not very fond of being under pressure..