I decided to put out a brief video clip of my two boys, imitating their daddy! The first part is Nathan, doing a horse stance with a double-handed downward strike. The second part is Alexander having a pretty fair go at the punching bag after watching me on it for about 30 minutes. What’s interesting is that both boys were just a bit older than 1-year old in their respective clips, and I never formally taught them any of what’s seen in the video. It just goes to show that some skills can be inherent. ☯
Category: Feel Good Story
Life Is Like A Camera…
One of the better aspects of returning to social media, is the fact that I’ve had the opportunity to reconnect with some friends I’ve been out of touch with for decades. Considering the fact that I graduated from high school twenty five years ago, it’s no surprise to learn that many of us have changed and taken a direction in life that may not have been assumed, at the time. One of those people has a tendency of sharing little nuggets of wisdom and motivation on his Facebook feed, and I wanted to share one of them with you, today. I don’t know what his source was, and it’s translated from French, so bear with me…
Life is like a camera…
ZOOM in on what’s important…
CAPTURE the food moments…
DEVELOP the best ones and
DELETE the rest!
If you don’t get the results you wanted or wished for,
RELOAD and RESHOOT.
I felt the comparison, as well as the thought behind this was nice. I feel it sends the message that although there’s good and bad in life, it’s important to acknowledge that you should focus on the good and capture those moments that make you happy. I don’t know, maybe I’m just feeling wistful today. Happy Saturday, everyone! ☯
When The Hell Did THAT Happen…?
I like to think that I’m pretty good at paying attention to detail. After all, my professional livelihood has always depended on that very skill, so I usually make a point of noticing things even before I technically need to. However, something seems to have happened that I wasn’t even aware of. I appear to have exceeded 300 followers! I’m sitting at 303, to be exact.
When I started authoring this blog, I did so for two reasons:
- To share pertinent information about Buddhism, Diabetes, Martial Arts as well as Health&Fitness as I knew of it; and
- To grow my ability to write, research and express myself.
I like to think that I’ve easily accomplished those two goals. In the past two and half years, I’ve met some amazing people who write some amazing blogs. I’ve made contacts and helped to share the knowledge I’ve gathered from 38 years of managing Type-1 Diabetes and 32 years of studying Buddhism and karate (although the Buddhist aspect didn’t come along until a few years AFTER I started karate). It’s been an amazing and in fact, and unexpected pleasure in my daily life to start authoring this blog. And now that I’ve started, I don’t expect I’ll ever stop. It’s just too much fun and I find myself unable to shut up, so it works for me.
A big thanks for everyone who reads, comments and enjoys my blog. You keep reading them, I’ll keep writing them. And yes, I’m well aware that “300” is not a number worthy of celebration. But if it was enough for the Spartans to hold off the Persians (albeit temporarily), I’m comfortable knowing I already have an army behind me to keep this thing going. ☯
Finding Inspiration Among The Stars
Happy “May The Fourth,” everybody! And may the Force be with you! It’s no secret that I’ve long considered myself to be a nerd. And proud of it, for that matter. I think there’s a lot to be said for enjoying and finding inspiration in fantasy, science fiction and make-believe. And I’m one of the more hybrid fans, who won’t subscribe to a specific “camp.” What I mean by this, is that I’m a huge fan of Star Wars, Star Trek and all the other brands of fantasy and fiction including J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Jordan, Brian Keene and Lee Child.
I spent the majority of my childhood, immersed in books. I escaped the cruel world of Diabetes, hospitals and illness by walking the road to Mordor with Frodo, travelling the stars with Captain James T. Kirk (and later Jean-Luc Picard) and learning about the One Power with Rand Al’Thor (That’s the Wheel of Time series, for you muggles!) What was particular and special is that Diabetes didn’t seem to exist in these worlds, which as a child, was one of the most appealing aspects of it. That, and a genuine love of reading kept me occupied whenever I wasn’t in karate class or studying.
Star Wars Day, or May the Fourth, started in 2011 as a way for fans to celebrate, well… Star Wars. Ironically, George Lucas had nothing to do with creating the so-called holiday but has since embraced it. I grew up on the original trilogy (Episodes IV, V and VI) and absolutely loved the use of a light sabre. It was actually one of the inspirational thoughts behind my study of Kendo. And there’s no denying that Jedi robes can easily be seen as something akin to a martial arts uniform. The Jedi Temple very much resembles a monastery, especially since they refer to themselves as the “Jedi Order.”
I know that not everyone has been a fan of the prequel trilogy or the newly-minted closing chapters of the Skywalker Saga (Episodes VII, VIII and IX), but I’ve loved and enjoyed every one of the movies, television shows and spin-offs. Except for Solo. That was a poorly-filmed piece of shit that cost me time I’ll never get back. But that’s just an opinion. I think that everything before, during and after the original movies painted a fantastic saga, and the books are even better. For example, I’ve read a book trilogy from the Old Republic days about the rise of Darth Bane and how he developed the “Rule of Two,” where there are only ever two Sith: A master and an apprentice.
I sincerely love that over four decades after the first movie was released, Star Wars is still hammering along has continued to the next generation of viewership and is adding more depth to the story. I’ve recently started watching The Mandalorian and it’s quite good. There are more plans in the works for different shows and features as well, and this nerd couldn’t be happier. Never discount a bit of sci-fi and fantasy. A touch of imagination and indulgence can go a long, long way. One might even say it can transport your imagination to a galaxy far, far away… ☯
A Boy Needs Heroes…
When I was a child, my father and I sat through the original Christopher Reeve Superman movies. That’s plural, because by the time I actually sat down to watch them, I was about the same age as Nathan and they had just released Superman III, with the original Superman movie being released a few months after I was born. Now that I’ve effectively deepened my legendary status in nerdom and properly aged myself, I do have a point…
As long as he behaves himself, Friday nights are usually the evenings I spend with Nathan. My wife generally takes advantage to try and get some extra work in so that she can have her weekend, so Nathan and I will usually watch a movie, crash on the living room floor with sleeping bags and enjoy some snacks. As I mentioned, it’s all contingent on him behaving himself throughout the day. But everything had gone reasonably well yesterday, so we sat down on the couch and discussed what movie we would watch.
Much like the joke about couples never being able to pick a restaurant, Nathan is notorious for never making a choice but declining any offers I make. Last night, I asked if he’d like to watch a Superman movie. He nodded enthusiastically and I started to search my streaming services for one we could watch together. None of the original Christopher Reeve movies were available, so I opted for 2013’s Man of Steel.
Comparatively much more violent than the originals, considering the actual fights, punching and battles scenes involved, some may argue that such a movie wasn’t the most appropriate for a 6-year old. But I was then caught by surprise as Nathan learned a significant number of important lessons throughout the movie. And I’m going to share those lessons with you now. I should probably point out that sitting through an entire movie is something of an amazing accomplishment for Nathan. So, there’s that. Moving on…
If you’ve never watched Man of Steel, proceed at your own risk, as there will be spoilers. That being said, I have a great appreciation for the movie, since it steers away from the typical depiction of the all-powerful and invulnerable Superman in favour of a hero who actually feels and who can be affected/harmed by significant opposition. The movie starts by showing the birth of Kal’El, followed by his being sent out amongst the stars by his parents before the total destruction of Krypton. Although any Superman fan is well aware of Krypton’s destruction, it made for an interesting piece of the story to actually SEE some of the storyline, rather than the typical movie with the red and blue suit stepping into the frame within the first fifteen minutes.
As Superman’s parents place him in the rocket and say their heartfelt goodbyes, I glanced over at Nathan and noticed he was red-faced, red-eyed and had a single, fat tear rolling down his cheek. I asked him if he was alright and why he was crying. he responded, “I’m sad…” When I asked him why he was sad, he explained that those parents had to send their baby away and they would never get to see him again. He also pointed out that the baby would never get to know his parents. I was caught off guard with the emotional and mature response he provided. I don’t mind saying that it was extremely uncharacteristic of him.
As the movie progressed, there are a couple of scenes that reached Nathan and we discussed them. The first was when Clark Kent is working in a truck stop restaurant as a bus boy and tries to intervene against a trucker who’s harassing a female waitress. When the trucker confronts him, Clark chooses to walk away. Nathan asked why Clark didn’t just beat him up, as he was obviously stronger than the trucker. This gave us the opportunity to have a talk about how just because you’re stronger than someone else, doesn’t mean you should exercise that strength against them.
The next scene came when we flash back to Clark’s teen years and he gets shoved to the ground and taunted by a group of bullies. Clark sits there and ignores their taunts until they depart. He’s helped to his feet by another classmate and as he releases the steel post he was braced against, we see Clark’s hand has imprinted on the steel. Nathan was blown away at the level of strength and asked why Clark wouldn’t fight back and beat up the boys, since they started it and he should defend himself. I explained that Clark showed restraint, which can often be a more valuable quality than a show of force. Especially in light of the fact that he managed to de-escalate the situation by avoiding a fight.
There were a number of other scenes but honestly, I’ve made this post long enough at this point. I often say that knowledge and wisdom can come form the most unlikely sources, and last night effectively proved that point. What started out as an evening of movie-watching fun proved to be an evening of important life-lessons for my young son. We still had fun and enjoyed the movie, but a little growing was done at the same time. Not too shabby, for a Friday night… ☯
“But Daddy, Zombies Are Real…”
That title isn’t just an abstract one; these are words that my 6-year old son chose to utter, just a few weeks ago. When I asked him what made him believe that zombies were real, he explained that he had seen them in “real shows,” not cartoons. So they must real. This not only prompted me to have an in-depth discussion with him about the realism of what he sees on television, regardless of cartoon or live, it also prompted me to thoroughly scrub his restricted list on Netflix, since he obviously accessed something he shouldn’t have been watching.
The unexpected result that it had, was it caused me to question how easy it would be to survive through a “zombie apocalypse.” This thought is further deepened by the fact that I’ve recently started re-reading a bunch of Brian Keene books, a well-known horror novelist. He’s had some really great ones, including The Rising and City of the Dead. But the one I’ve been reading recently is called Dead Sea, and it follows the story of a down-on-his-luck protagonist who saves a couple of kids from fires and zombie hordes when the zombie apocalypse comes. They wind up on a ship on the open sea, hence the title. CAUTION: There will be spoilers on this book, ahead. Here’s the cover, in case anyone is interested in looking it up:
So, you may be asking yourself, “Why are we talking about zombies on a Buddhist/Fitness/Diabetes blog?” Well, the answer is quite simple: because I can. But even more so, sometimes it can be refreshing to take a different perspective at things, and books often provide a means of doing just that. But what’s more than that (he says, calming his sarcasm) is that something that a lot of these stories bring up is a person’s propensity to keep fighting and survive, even when faced with what appears to be insurmountable odds. And as I mentioned in the second paragraph, it’s made me question and wonder what my odds of survival would be when faced with a situation like a zombie apocalypse.
First, let me start by pointing out that the possibility of zombies is something I find ridiculous at best, for a host of reasons. Between rigour mortis, decomposition and the concept that reanimating dead and rotting tissue in such a way as to allow mobility is an impossibility, I’m of the opinion that zombies are right up there with vampires and unicorns. Anyone with a medical degree that could correct me is free to do so in my comments section. Granted, at least the concept of a horse growing a horn out of its head is more likely than a reanimated corpse. But I digress…
The topic of this post is actually supposed to be about survival; a topic that the main character of this book touched on quite well in the first page of the first chapter. He said, “Listen… you never know what you’ll do until you find yourself in an impossible situation, so don’t ever say never. Survival instinct is a motherfucker, and when your back is against the wall, everything changes. Everything. I know. It did for me. It all changed for me.”
In the pages that follow, a number of specific aspects of dealing with any survival situation is addressed. The need for food, supplies, a safe haven for rest as well as the resources to protect yourself are all aspects of such a situation. And not only protection from whatever may have prompted the emergency, but from the people who would benefit from it as well. There are always some of those. Even in the face of our current pandemic, there have been people who have sought to use the current state of the world to their advantage, preying on those who may not know better.
I think the reason this story resonates with me so much, besides the fact I occasionally enjoy the horror/fantasy genres, is the fact that about midway through the book once everyone is aboard ship and cruising to relative safety, a character named Stephanie is identified as having Diabetes and being without insulin. She succumbs to a Diabetic coma and passes away in her sleep shortly thereafter. And THAT more than anything provides an important wake-up call for me, from a survival standpoint. It raises the question of how long would I last in an apocalypse scenario given that I would need to find some means of securing an insulin supply and the materials needed to inject it.
In all reality, I can live without my pump and even without a blood glucose monitor. It’s not ideal, but I could do it. I lived until my late 30’s without a pump. And in a total breakdown of societal resources where stores and retail locations would ultimately be looted and emptied of their contents, insulin may not be everyone’s top choice of things to grab. So I could potentially manage to scavenge and find an adequate supply. For a while. Even when you consider that a breakdown in utilities could mean that insulin supplies stored in pharmacy dispensaries would eventually spoil due to temperature extremes and lack of proper refrigeration.
But then what? If society breaks down, it’s doubtful that there’ll be manufacturers still producing insulin. So, although I could no doubt survive for a period of time (especially since the self-defence aspect would be no issue) there would no doubt come a point where, no matter how prepared I am, the Diabetes aspect of me will cause me to succumb to the new, apocalyptic environment in which I find myself. Maybe that’s why I enjoy these types of stories so much; because I know they involve an environment I couldn’t survive in and is the only format through which I can experience it. Not that I WANT to experience a disaster… I’m jus’ saying’…
Hopefully, we’ll never have to deal with an “apocalyptic”-level event in our lifetime, but it’s humbling to think about how a simple medical condition that I’ve lived with for almost four decades would bring about a swift end for me, based on the state of the world. It’s a bit of an eye-opener. Even if I fortified my home, stored non-perishable foods and did everything I could to be prepared in the event of a cataclysmic event, my downfall is more likely to be, not from zombies, lack of food or the inability to defend myself but from the lack of a small, glass vial. ☯
A Little Taste Of Electronics…
My wife and I are both avid readers, with thousands of books lining the east wall of our home’s living room. Lately, I can’t even be sure who’s coming out ahead on the number of volumes read, since I’m currently reading Robert Jordan’s the Wheel of Time series for the third or fourth time and it’s a large, 14-volume series with about 600 to 700 pages per volume. It makes for pretty long reading, especially with children in the house as a distraction. And no, my 6-year old doesn’t sit still for books, before anyone suggests that.
Anyway, I recently started taking public transit to get to work and since it’s about a 20 minute bus ride, a friend of mine recommended that I use that time to read. Although I’m inclined to agree that this is a better option than sitting idle or crying on the bus, I was faced with the prospect that I carry a pretty full briefcase and didn’t have room for the collector’s edition volumes of Jordan’s books. Even the average pocket book wouldn’t have much space allowed in what I currently carry.
My friend decided to be a smart ass and said, “There’s an app for that,” referencing my post where I wrote about the various fitness and health apps I use. You can read THAT post here. But then e-readers were brought up and I remembered that not only am I a big fan of e-readers but I have one of my own. And weighing at only a couple of ounces and thin as a wafer, I could easily slip it among the other items in my duty bag. Problem solved.
A modern solution to a small problem. I don’t know if I would necessarily say that not having something to read on the bus is inherently a problem, per say. But it’s nice to have the option. This damn thing is so small that I occasionally forget that I have it. And to the friend who reminded me, thanks for the recommendation. It definitely takes the boredom out of the bus ride. ☯
A Gentle Change Of Perspective
Sometimes it feels as though I’ve worn a uniform my entire life… From a very young age, I started wearing a karate gi. Throughout my teens and twenties I found myself falling the old school route where I wore a fast food and a pharmacy uniform as I worked jobs to get me through high school and college. I started wearing security uniforms in my 20’s during the chaotic period when I still wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do with my life. The, I stepped into my chosen career and the wearing of a uniform became second nature, despite the fact I had been wearing one in some way, shape or form for almost twenty years prior to that.
Yesterday, I started a new job in which I get to enjoy the pleasure of being dressed in a very different kind of uniform. Some may look at this photo and say, “That’s not a uniform…” And you’d be right, in the traditional sense. But how one dresses for a job is a representation of the quality of work one intends to DO on the job, and I feel it’s important to dress well for one’s position. Plus, I love suits. I F&*KIN’ LOVE SUITS!!!
There’s nothing complex or complicated about this morning’s post. No deep-rooted philosophical lesson or long-winded explanation about some function of the body, a martial arts technique or what Diabetic issue is currently throwing a monkey wrench into my life. Just a quick, simple post to share a happy moment with all of you. Yesterday was amazing, albeit a very different kind of exhausting than I’m used to. I have some excellent and professional people I work with, which made the first day all the more smooth. But it didn’t help that I missed my scheduled bus to get home, meaning I had to stand in a snowstorm for about twenty five minutes until the next one came along. Live and learn.
It’s a new routine for the entire family, with everyone making adjustments as working from home is solely my wife’s arena, now. But by the time I finally DID get home last night, it’s a fair assumption to say that we were both exhausted and we crashed very shortly after the kids did. That’s usually a sure sign of a day’s work well done. Now, as I step into my second day I have a clear idea of how my day will go and what to expect. Adjustments will be made, systems will adjust and a routine will develop. All will be well. Except for the snow. The snow needs to take a snow day. Pun fully intended. ☯
In Memoriam
Siblings can be a Light-send, despite the occasional rivalry. Not only do they share blood ties, they can be your backup in times of trouble, a welcome celebrater in times of joy and a tandem member of the same generation with whom you can grow up and share the memories of life with. This makes it all the more tragic when one of these siblings leaves this life before they were rightfully intended. This also brings me to my older brother, Stéphane.
On this day 30 years ago, in the early morning hours, I was awoken by my mother who told me that we had to get dressed and get to the hospital as my brother was comatose and would likely die before sunrise. Being as I was only 13 years old, my concept of death held no comfort for me and in fact, simply told me that I would be losing my only sibling and never see him again after this visit. This was mixed with the unhealthy belief I had developed from years of seeing him “on the brink,” only to come out of it and be released from the hospital a few short days later. The first night of my life that I was wrong would prove to be the last night of his.
We arrived at the hospital shortly after midnight. We were met at the elevator as we exited on my brother’s floor, by our family doctor and long-time friend, Dr. Edward Furlong. Some readers from New Brunswick (if there are any for this post) may recognize that name as he was also the Minister of Health and subsequently, Minister of Education for New Brunswick during the first decades of the 2000’s. He greeted us solemnly and walked us to my brother’s room. We could hear his moans floating down the hallway, which elicited my first and only question of the night: “I thought he was in a coma?” The doctor explained that he was, but that some unresponsive people could still make sound, under certain circumstances.
I walked into a scene that until that point, I had only seen on television. My brother was lying on his back with his head slightly elevated. He had tubes coming out of both arms, his nose and all about his head. There were multiple machines with displays, beeping and moving with a measurable rhythm. And once or twice every minute, a low moan of pain escaped from my brother’s unpainted lips. The scene immediately melted any illusions I had for his survival, as similar scenes I’d scene in movies were usually one that accompanied death, soon after. I broke into tears at the realization that this genuinely was the last night I would see my brother alive.
My parents discussed providing me with a private room so that I could potentially get some sleep as it was expected to be an extremely long night. My parents held fast to the belief that my brother would pull through, so they had unfounded expectations I would be going to school the following day. I was brought to an unoccupied room on the other side of the hospital’s wing, a fact which would become important, later in the story. I took off my shoes and slipped under the starched hospital sheets. Although it was the middle of the night and I was exhausted, I obviously couldn’t fall asleep.
I was pretty much a sobbing mess, thinking about all the times when I’d been frustrated and angry with my brother. Instead of focusing on all the good memories, thoughts of all the times we fought or disagreed came to mind, generously sprinkled with the number of times I said harsh or cruel words to him. I instantly regretted each and every one of them and swore a silent oath to make it up to him if I were ever given the opportunity, painfully unaware the chance would never present itself. I was visited frequently by either of my parents, Dr. Furlong and the score of nurses who were keeping an eye on me. I couldn’t hear my brother from where I was, but the constant visits kept me on edge as I kept expecting every person to be the one who would ultimately bring bad news.
Short minutes after the 3 a.m. hour I finally fell into a peaceful sleep, which would be immediately interrupted by my father who had come to announce that my brother had passed away, almost to the very minute that I had fallen asleep. At the risk of sounding creepy, my mother’s side of the family has been often known for strange coincidences such as this. But even the nurse who had been keeping an eye on me was able to confirm that I had fallen asleep almost to the minute that my brother finally passed. I like to think of it as his way of sharing some much-needed peace as he finally obtained his.
The weeks that followed were a blur and quite surreal. At my young age, I had unfortunately attended funerals before but never for a member of my immediate family. During the funeral viewings over two days, I sat a chair next to his coffin and never left his side, painfully aware that once that lid was closed I would never set eyes on my older brother again. It was the greatest sense of loss I had ever felt in my life to that point, for a much needed life lesson that nobody wants. Once the funeral was over, my parents and I took a trip up the Gaspé coast to get away for a bit. It was a pleasant trip, but there was always something to remind me that our family unit was a member short. And always would be.
So, why would I choose to write about this today? Well, besides the fact that today marks the 30th anniversary of his death (despite not being something one celebrates) it also dawned on me that I usually observe this day privately and I’ve never written my thoughts on how that night impacted me. And I believe it’s important. I’ve written about my brother before, and I can tell you that his personality and willingness to fight to live and survive was passed on to me. He is the biggest inspiration in my life in relation to fighting the odds, no matter what. I attribute my ability to never give up and think positive to him. He was certainly more of a teacher to me than he was ever aware.
At the end of all things, his cause of death was heart failure, despite the multitude of health issues that could have done him in sooner. There is great irony in the fact that despite being a young man with the biggest heart, his heart was what finally gave out. I guess that makes sense as his heart was always what he used most. Even now, 30 years after the fact, I’m still brought to tears while writing these words. Considering I’m not the most emotional dude on the block (some rocks show more emotion than I usually do) this goes a long way towards showing the impact he had on my life, for as short a time as we were together.
Hold your loved ones close, dear readers. I often say that life doesn’t care about one’s plans. And we never know when we may lose someone near and dear, or when this life ends for ourselves. It warms my heart to know that my son Nathan now has a younger brother, Alex. Whether he realizes it or not, it’s comforting to know that he’ll have some backup, should anything ever happen to my wife and I. Even now, I pray you’re resting in peace, brother. Whether in this life or the next, I’m confident we’ll see each other again. ☯
Letting Me Off My Leash, Free-Range Diabetic
I don’t think I need to explain that people take most common, everyday things for granted. I experience this a lot because despite the advancements I’ve lived through in the past 38 years, it’s difficult to move around without a SIGNIFICANT amount of supplies. The fact that I’m fed up of it likely makes it sound way worse than it is. But eventually, a guy gets tired of carrying around a man purse just so that he can run some errands throughout the morning without concern. The “for granted” aspect comes in because most people fail to recognize how lucky they are to be able to just step out of the house with abandon.
A week ago, I decided that I would sit through a specific bus route that I would be using for work. This was so that I could time out my entry into the city in the mornings without the concern of being late. Alexander was napping, Nathan was gone to school and my wife was hard at work in front of her own computer, so I felt it was a good opportunity to go out for an hour or two. I started to pack my usual shoulder sling of supplies, when a wave of impatience struck me and I decided to go in a different direction.
I tested my blood. Perfectly normal with no insulin “on board.” Good. I took some sinus medication so that I wouldn’t suffocate through the wearing of a mask in public for a couple of hours. Excellent. That shit’s supposed to last a few hours, anyway. I had my wallet and identification, and I grabbed a face mask and stepped out the door. I waited a matter of minutes at the bus stop and after a 22-minute bus ride, I was in the downtown core and stepping into the local shopping centre.
I spent about an hour and a half downtown, walking around and browsing through some of the shops before grabbing the bus for the return journey. My blood sugars didn’t bottom out, I didn’t die and I didn’t find myself needing anything that I would usually pack and drag along. It felt really nice, being able to just step out of the house and go somewhere. It felt “non-diabetic.” I’d like to say it felt normal, but I’ve had Type-1 Diabetes for so damn long that being Diabetic feels normal to me.
I’ve managed to compress what I carry throughout the course of a day into one small, single-shouldered sling and it usually contains the following:
- Fast-Acting Carbohydrates: I favour jellybeans as they seem to work fastest for me;
- Nasal Spray: I’ve had some mild sinus issues since childhood and occasionally need a spritz. Wearing a face mask also makes it harder to breathe;
- Blood Glucose Meter: Besides the fact that my insulin pump seems to be a temperamental bitch who screams at me every couple of hours despite smooth blood sugars, frequent blood sugar testing is still required to ensure the proper calibration of my CGM. Plus, should there be an issue with the CGM, I need to have the ability to properly ascertain my blood sugar levels; and
- Extra Supplies: This is a broad one, but it can involve anything, including spare pump supplies, extra insulin or added lancets and strips. There can be a lot more, depending on the situation.
Most of the time, it’s just for when I go out. But realistically, when I travel to Saskatoon overnight, I often opt for something small and portable to carry. Considering I travel up, get the injections, sleep it off then drive right back down the following day, I make a point not to pack a huge suitcase. There are no nights out on the town, requiring extra clothing or special stuff. But when I make a point to stop and take notice, I really never leave the house without bringing a whole shwack of crap! This comes from years of situations where I’ve developed a “better to have it and not need it” mentality, as it relates to Diabetes.
It felt nice to be out for a few hours without dragging a bunch of stuff. I almost felt normal, walking among people. Note that I said “almost.” Besides, as I said earlier, I’ve had Diabetes for so long that it seems normal to ME. I can hear some friends thinking, “Shawn? Normal…?” Come on, guys! Give me a break! I’m about as normal as I’m ever going to get. But seriously, if you’ve ever had a friend text you to randomly go for coffee or you’ve decided to go sit through a movie on a whim, appreciate that freedom for what it is. There are so many things that a Type-1 Diabetic needs to consider before leaving the house that it almost makes it tedious to do so. Don’t take the little freedoms for granted. Sometimes, they’re the best ones. ☯
The Blogging Buddhist 