275 What a day – Jan. 6

What a day – Jan. 6

My shock and bewilderment began in the afternoon of Jan. 6 and continued throughout the evening. These feelings prevail and probably will for months, if not years, to come. It is so hard to process what happened.

We try very hard not to be political in our writing of these blogs. I am speaking, not of politics, but what was witnessed by all of us on this day of despair.

Watching the spectacle through the eyes of the TV cameras was alarming, sobering, and depressing. I could not believe what I was seeing. Washington DC was under siege by its own people. This couldn’t be true. They could not have entered the building, which has been closed to the public during the pandemic. But the cameras did not lie. There they were, streaming through the majestic halls of the nation’s center of government.

It was so hard to believe. Those of you, like me, who visit the city often remember how the guards at the door look you over so carefully, poke a wooden stick through your handbag, and motion you in once the process is complete. This is true of all the buildings during non-pandemic times, so what was different this time. The guards are very professional but stern and maintain an air of authority.

I find it hard to believe that something was not amiss that day. How could this breach happen with these dedicated individuals at the door!

Living about 60 miles from the nation’s capital, we frequent the city on many, many occasions. In fact this past Thanksgiving, we took a drive just to get out from our stay-at-home situation to the city. It was a nice day with little traffic, as we thought would be the case.

What we saw could have been a warning of what was to come. The fencing around the White House was alarming. We had always strolled in the area where the holiday trees were decorated, but this year it was closed off. 

When we walked on the other side of the beautiful building, again we were shut off. Ugly fences surrounded the majestic structure with signs of warning to stay out. 

Police patrolled all around the perimeter. We thought what is the reason for all of this? We have visited the city for more than 50 years and have never seen this type of restriction.

Little did we know, this type of barrier would be needed, but not at the White House. We were upset that day but had no idea of what was to come. Fences of this type would have helped stop the insurrection that took place at the Capitol. Why was it left so vulnerable! Hopefully, the answers will come soon.

When our country was attacked on 9/11, we grieved together and blamed the foreign powers. But this time, the destruction and assault were by our own citizens to stop the tabulating of the electoral college.

As I watched it all play out, I thought of other situations of lockdowns and attacks. I hope the congressional leaders who were present during this horrible event will think of the schools and how children, teachers, and staff feel when they go into lockdown and aren’t sure what is happening, as well as others who are involved in attacks at stores, malls, etc.

Hopefully, these leaders will do more now than offer thoughts and prayers when this occurs.

I guess I should have been better prepared for what I saw on that terrible afternoon. One warning was when I received hazard pay for the first time in my life. I have worked as an election official for several years since I retired. This year we meticulously followed all the CDC pandemic guidelines. I never felt unsafe and helped run a secure, flawless election in the state of Virginia. 

A month or so after receiving the regular pay, I was mailed an extra check labeled “hazard pay.” I was shocked! Now I know why this was done. I guess we were taking our lives in our hands, not only for the virus but for what others may have done. 

This terrible event will be remembered in the annals of history as a threat to our democracy. I never felt the democracy was in danger, and the congressional members who went ahead with the electoral vote were proof that the democracy prevailed. 

I have always felt such pride whenever I visited the Capitol, especially statuary hall. It is a majestic area that invokes the enormity of the history of our nation. And on that horrible day, here were people who were storming the area, taking selfies, and acting extremely irreverent. 

The democracy will prevail; I know deep in my heart. But I warn my children, their children, their friends, and all other citizens below the age of 50, beware of this type of event that can happen and be ready to defend our nation.

I continue to shed tears as I have done almost daily during the pandemic, but these tears were for our nation that must stand tall and proud. 

                                           Frances

274 Planning your own funeral redux

I woke up early hours Monday, Dec. 21 with chills and then fever. I spent the day with a dull headache wondering if I had it. First thing Tuesday, I went for a test and was confirmed positive. I am writing this on Thursday and am feeling like I am starting to get a cold but with little other symptoms. 

I have suspicions where I contracted it since a walking buddy went for a test after me and also showed positive. Now I remember she was complaining of feeling like she had a cold or allergies!

I have high hopes that I will continue with these minor complaints and nothing more. But I must confess my first thoughts were morbid and I revisited a blog I had posted in September 2018 to see where I stood on funeral planning. With your indulgence, I am reprinting it:

Planning Your Own Funeral

I have noticed recently that there are many obituaries in the newspaper with what looks like high-school photographs of people who were 70 or 80 years old when they died.

I am not sure anyone would recognize this photo as Trish Ridgeway if it were attached to an obituary. Of course, I am not in contact with many people that knew me in my younger days since I moved around as a Navy brat and changed locations every two years. I must say, however, that I have trouble picking my husband Harry out of a group picture from high school!

Of course, I googled obituary photographs and found plenty of advice about how to choose one. Plus one article noted that it is a recent trend to use much younger photos in obituaries.

The Cleveland Plain Dealer did a study of the use of obituary photos over time. “Obituaries and their photographs are one reflection of our society at a particular moment in time,” said Keith Anderson, co-author of the study and assistant professor of social work at Ohio State University. “In this case, we can get hints about our views on aging and appearance from the photographs chosen for obituaries. Our findings suggest that we were less accepting of aging in the 1990s than we were back in the 60s.”

I bet that few people have formal portraits made in old age. You see many blurry photos in obituaries that seem to be enlarged from a group candid shot.

In this Google search, I also found many websites that told you how to plan your own funeral. Many are purely mercenary, wanting to hook you up with lawyers or funeral homes, but I also discovered sites on the topic from the New York Times and Kiplinger's.

Everyone offers a checklist of what to do--writing down what type of burial or cremation, what type of service, eulogists, pallbearers, music, readings.

And, of course, the advice tells you to write your own obituary. I saw an ad for a four-week course on writing your own obituary. That seems a bit much to me! Do you want "just the facts, mam," a literary masterpiece, or something that reflects your humor and point of view?

Being an obsessive-compulsive type, I immediately started answering the questions in the checklists and writing my own obituary. When I discussed what I was doing with my husband Harry, we discovered that although we had generally discussed what we want, each of us had preferences the other did not know.

While I was thinking about all this, Senator John McCain's funeral was going on. Sen. McCain had time to think about and plan his funeral even though I imagined he and his family hoped it would be later than it was. If we die suddenly, imagine the stress of the grieving survivors trying to plan a funeral in usually less than a week after the death. We usually spend a year or more planning a wedding or other special event!

So it makes sense to plan ahead and make sure your wishes are available immediately to loved ones. That means don't put the plans in a lockbox!

A morbid subject to be sure but one to think about. Now I have to go back and add more humor to my obituary! 

Back to 2020, still being compulsive, I reviewed my planning list and my draft obit--it still needs more humor!

                                                     Trish

273 Holidays 2020?

Holidays 2020?

If I may first make you smile, I will give you a brief overview of our Thanksgiving this year. I bought a turkey breast and the “fixins” to do a two­-person traditional dinner. 

Dear husband decided he would rather stay in his recliner and watch tv. Suited me just fine to stay out of the kitchen! Went to Sheetz for a ham sub and a turkey sub. ‘Twas a great way to stay relaxed. No prep and no clean up work. Talked to various children on the phone later in the evening. Amen. The end.

Now, it is time to prepare for the COVID holiday. I like this mug but didn’t buy it because I am not paying $25 plus shipping and handling, but it is a clever representation of life in America right now. 

We have a tree this year. It’s about two-feet-plus tall with little white lights and I put a gold ribbon bow on the top to match the gold bow on our one wreath. This is just for us to enjoy. No one will be visiting. We long to see our NYC contingent but that is surely a no-go! 

Dear husband’s family reunion is always held on December 26th when relatives from far and wide have gathered. No, not this year. This is the first year in our 43-year marriage that the reunion has been canceled. It is a fun time, but the recluse in me goes late, leaves early but seeing everyone and hearing a few stories does make for a special time. Maybe next year.

Amazon loves me as does Children’s Salon and Sephora and Harry and David and Virginia Diner and the Milk Bar pastry shop, etc., etc., etc. The gifts purchased from said stores were either shipped directly to the recipients or will be left on various porches around town. I am staying safe rather than sorry – and we wear masks AND gloves!

So, you ask, “What on earth is she doing with the extra time?” Reading, reading, still working on cleaning out the storage room (four months – not finished), reading, duplicate bridge online, and reading. Oh, playing piano a bit, but fear the muscle memory in the fingers has r e a l l y slowed down. Yes, and reading.

I decided to go back to some classics that I read in college days and probably did not appreciate or truly understand. Proust! Proust is the one. He was born in a Parisian suburb in 1871 to a noted scientist father and a well-educated mother who loved the classics. 

As a child, Proust was a hypersensitive (read hypochondriac) small-sized asthmatic. He, however, did manage to obtain a philosophy degree. In his home, he lined his bedroom with cork to block the noise of Paris life and wrote all night and slept all day. (from Carter, W.C. Marcel Proust: A Life, Yale books, 2002) 

I started with Swan’s Way, the first volume in what is collectively known as In Search of Lost Time. His writing has these long, convoluted sentences which remind me of reading Faust in German in my college days. Go to the end of the sentence or the semi-colon and try to find a verb to give context to all those other phrases. Nevertheless, it is so worth the effort. If I am correct, Proust’s life premise is that ART can withstand the destructive forces of time and place. Boy, do we need that thought this year!

From the same Proust book, Carter explains that Proust saw a relationship between sensation and memory, and to enhance this reality one needs visual images. Proust’s visualizations apparently were often based on paintings he knew and his memories of them, just as the smell of tea and madeleine cookies recalled his childhood times with his grandmother. (Sound familiar, doesn’t it?) The rather highbrow term for this is “aesthetic analogies.”

Proust also had a dark, droll sense of humor. He notes that if one finds something tried does not work, try something else. He, however, admits to continuing to make the same mistakes over and over. Sometimes sad, sometimes funny. 

I must acknowledge Vanity Fair magazine whose last page always features a Proustian questionnaire of a noted person. It is the first thing I read each month. The questionnaire was not original to Proust, but was a Victorian parlor game so all the guests would participate in  conversation. Proust answered the questions which were found in the papers of French President Felix Faure. It was an album belonging to Faure’s daughter from 1924. It was sold in 2003 for $113,000 at auction. The questionnaire is used for interviews and college admissions and parlor games today. (Wikipedia/ProustQuestionnaire, accessed December 4, 2020) 

My holiday present to you is a copy of the questionnaire. Use it on Zoom, Skype, or the phone, ask a question at the mailbox when you see a neighbor (six feet apart, of course). It’s fun and can be illuminating! Merry, merry and happy, happy, and hoping for a better 2021.

Glenne

The Proust Questionnaire

1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
2. What is your greatest fear?
3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
4. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
5. Which living person do you most admire?
6. What is your greatest extravagance?
7. What is your current state of mind?
8. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
9. On what occasion do you lie?
10. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
11. Which living person do you most despise?
12. What is the quality you most like in a man?
13. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
15. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
16. When and where were you happiest?
17. Which talent would you most like to have?
18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
19. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
21. Where would you most like to live?
22. What is your most treasured possession?
23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
24. What is your favorite occupation?
25. What is your most marked characteristic?
26. What do you most value in your friends?
27. Who are your favorite writers?
28. Who is your hero of fiction?
29. Which historical figure do you most identify with?
30. Who are your heroes in real life?
31. What are your favorite names?
32. What is it that you most dislike?
33. What is your greatest regret?
34. How would you like to die?
35. What is your motto?

272 Children of 2020

Children of 2020

Never leave their devices behind
No matter where
They are going or
What they are doing. 

Short trips, long trips
And those in between,
Electronics are part
Of their belongings
In pockets, bags, or in hand
Never to be out of range.

Don’t ever try to distance
Them from the coveted screen.
It’s as if you had asked
Them to cut off a body part
Or sever a main artery
To leave the device.

It can be frustrating
When you try to have
A conversation or any type of dialog.
It takes time to cut through
The electronic fog.
To counter-attack,
Join them
With cell phones
And digital products
To stay
In the game.

During these days
Of stay-at-home mandates,
The devices are
Invaluable in communicating
With the family
And save the day!

Facetime calls
Prove priceless
As smiling faces appear
And photos snapped
To revisit
At any time. 

The written word
Is also miraculous
As texting is done
On a regular basis
And often answered
In the midst of a stream
Of friends’ posts.

Please don’t disparage
These young people
For constantly being online.
It can actually come in handy
During these most
Unusual of times.

Savvy Fran                                                              

271 A gift with a story

 

A Gift with a Story

An acquaintance heard me discussing efforts to establish a Civil War library for the Shenandoah Valley Battlefields Foundation.

"My husband has some Civil War books that no one in the family wants. He may be interested in donating. Do you think you want them?"

Although wondering if the books were the same titles that had been donated to us many times over, I told her to have her husband Phil email me and we could discuss. It turned out he had a great set of Civil War books--with an even better story! 

He had the 1911first edition of A Photographic History Of The Civil War edited by Francis T. Miller. The set is recognized as the best early collection of Civil War photographs and can fetch a good price on the used book market.

What intrigued me, however, was the letter pasted inside volume one.

Here is the text in case it is too small to read:

W. Steele Bryan M.D.
Ramey, Penna.
September 8, 1913.

Dear Pa:
Enclosed you will find a complete set of “The Photographic History of the Civil War.”

As you go through these books, I wish that you would mark with pencil in the margins all the engagements pictured in which you took part, the places visited and give dates when possible.

These books are to be yours as long as you live.
I hope that you will find much enjoyment in them.

Steele

W. Steele Bryan gave this set to his father, John R. Bryan, who lived from 1838 to 1920. John Bryan served in the 72nd Pennsylvania Infantry, also known as the Fire Zouave Regiment. 

They were called the Fire Zouaves because the initial recruits were Philadelphia firefighters. Many Civil War units modeled themselves after the French Zouave fighters of North Africa and wore some variation of the Zouave uniform that could include sashes, baggy pantaloons, tasseled fezzes, and turbans. The uniform pictured below looks more practical and may reflect a later, more functional uniform style that was worn later in the war.

Image from the 72nd PA Infantry reenactors page.

Bryan rose to the rank of corporal in Company B. The Regiment served in many battles including Yorktown, Seven Pines, Malvern Hill, Antietam, 1st Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Wilderness, and Petersburg.

He was also in the Valley with his unit at Harpers Ferry both in 1862 and 1863. His unit was in pursuit of Lee after Gettysburg from July 5 to 24 and probably followed him south to the Valley or to Loudoun County.

Bryan is buried in Oakland Cemetery and Mausoleum in Indiana County, Pennsylvania. His set of books passed down through the family to Phil Smith, who gave them to the SVBF Library. Now the books are in Virginia where Corporal Bryan fought so many battles.

                                              Trish

271 It Does No Good to Worry

It Does No Good to Worry

Well, dear readers, I am often told that it does no good to worry. I do worry, however. This week I am worried still about the pandemic and climate change 

and the painting in our house that needs to 

be done. I worry about the homeless, the west coast, Louisiana, and small businesses. I worry that New York City will never be the same! I worry about the four-year-old granddaughter whom we have not seen since February. 

Particularly, with the election Tuesday, I am worried about the Electoral College and how the election will play out. Do we still need the Electoral College? I have been wondering about this since I was a junior in high school! 

I decided, however, that worry was making my stomach hurt. The dogs are out in the sunshine, according to dear husband, trying to play grab the bags in the trash. I played around on Google to see what was trending. Does Trump have a Chinese bank account? Take away statements from the last “debate.” Mail-in ballots. Covid-19 vaccines. BUT I also found a biography of Laura Glück, the American poet who won the Nobel prize for literature this year. 

All of us have a few lines of favorite poetry from over the years. Maybe those lines we had to memorize in school or one that touched us in some way. I have always liked Emily Dickinson and Dorothy Parker with a touch of Poe and a line or two John Dunne. In college I found “Howl,” the Ginsberg poem that is the symbol of the turbulence of the late 1960s and 70s. 

Be that as it may for background, today I am adding Laura Glűck (rhymes with “click”) to the list. I will be honest and say I had heard the name but had NO context for recognizing it. Seems she was the U.S. Poet Laureate 2003-2004. Shame on me!

Here’s a brief bit of biography so you too can know a little about this amazing woman. She was born in New York City and attended Sarah Lawrence and Columbia. She won a Pulitzer in 1993 so she has been around for a while. At age 77 she is still a part-time professor at Yale and at Boston University along with producing 11 poetry anthologies and a non-fiction award-winning book: Essays on Poetry. In 2016 President Obama awarded her the National Humanities Medal. (This page is based on the copyrighted Wikipedia Louise Gluck; it is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. You may redistribute it, verbatim or modified,)

I have been reading her poetry. Some is dark; some is lyrical; some I do not understand. Here is a sampling: 

Google: louise+gluck+poems&tbm=isch&hl=en&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS856US856&hl

I am sorry it took me so long to find her. If you have favorites poems or know her work from somewhere, we would love to hear how she was revealed to you.

Off to watch the pre- and post-election news. Stay well! 

                                            Somewhat savvy, Glenne 

270 Happy Hauling

Happy Hauling

It all began in 1968. And it hasn’t let up. We have hauled more items than we care to count up and down the highways.

Our first big experience took place with a rented trailer for the move from our home state to a new place of residence in Virginia. We hooked the device to our Pontiac GTO and headed north. That was relatively painless since we had very little in the way of possessions. But that was definitely the beginning of this trail of carting

That evolved into moving furniture finds from Virginia to family members in North Carolina and on and on from emptying our parents houses to helping our children move and settle.

A few highlights of those trips include strapping a 30-foot ladder that folded in half atop a Buick Skylark. It was tied to the front bumper on top of the windshield and nose of the car. My husband just had to bring it from his parents’ house to ours which was about a seven-hour drive through mountains. Luckily, we were not stopped because I can’t imagine that was legal. We did start driving a station wagon that would hold more but the ladder would never have fit! 

As we progressed to a truck--Ford F150, I often thought of the Beverly Hillbillies as we piled many items on top. 

A dog house that was made for a very large Rottweiler was positioned in the middle with straps holding each side. This was when we needed to move the house for the dog who was going back to live with our son. We also rented a cab for the back of the truck on one occasion when the dog was sick, and we had to deliver him to our son. 

We never hesitate to accommodate our families on what we could deliver or pick up. Once our daughter was due to come home for spring break when one of those massive three-foot March snowstorms so famous in Virginia hit. My husband didn’t hesitate and loaded up the bed of the truck with snow and a shovel. As our daughter waited on the campus, several friends told her that her dad would never make it and she replied, “You don’t know my dad!” And of course, he made it. Took the shovel out of the back, refilled the bed of the truck with snow, and continued on his merry way with daughter in tow.

Dressers, desks, tools, cradles, and many, many other items made the trips from one destination to another. Sometimes rental options are used especially when emptying out parental homes. This was avoided when possible because we didn’t want to spend the extra money. We not only are highway haulers, but we are also thrifty movers as well. 

Our latest purchase has been the best when it comes to hauling. We have a truck with a full back seat, and a bed. We never thought this type of vehicle would suit but we love it, especially certain times of the year such as the holidays and beach trips.

Usually, the back seat of the truck, as well as the bed, are completely crammed for holiday hauling. Same goes for the beach trips that have become more frequent with retirement.

I

In addition, biking has become second nature with my husband so add a massive bike rack and bicycle to the load. Backing up can be a challenge, especially when we sometimes forget it is there. 

And of course, I can’t forget the return trip from New York City with a full table saw strapped in the back of a pickup truck. Those streets were a little tricky to navigate, but my determined husband will never miss a chance for a challenge even when vision is obscured by the enormous load in the back.

I wish I had photos of all of those escapades, but I ask you to imagine a truck filled to the top with various valuable items. Sometimes it feels as if it is a miracle when we make in unscathed. Please don’t be too critical when you see these loaded vehicles on the road.

I often wonder what other families do. Hopefully, they are as crazy as we are and bring whatever it is to a new destination when requested. Maybe not. Could be they all stay put and don’t have to haul anything! I can only imagine.

                                               Savvy Frances

269 Senior citizen of a different breed

A Senior Citizen of a Different Breed

By Teri Merrill

I gave him a tender touch, gently awakening him before the sun had risen. "Remember, no food or water before your procedure. Doctor's orders." Mornings aren't his favorite, but breakfast is, so it was if I had delivered a double negative in one short sentence. He was not a happy camper!

Following his surgery, he was groggy and a bit grumpy. He took immediately to his bed, grunting at me along the way. This was his second bladder procedure in three years, and I had been worried since scheduling it. He’s on the golden side of life now, so the risks of anesthesia have increased. I had a long list of post-op instructions and medications to keep him comfortable. That evening he managed to eat a small dinner with enthusiasm, so I knew Scooter would be okay.

This isn’t my husband I’m talking about. Scooter is my 14-year-old Bichon mix, who joined our family four years ago. The oversight, worry and care required for an aging pup may eclipse that of many humans. And the costs associated with his care likely equal or rival that of many aging adults.

Scooter is on a special diet that requires a prescription. He only drinks distilled water. He takes heart medications daily. We keep a steady supply of ear drops for his regular ear infections. He has his anal glands cleaned out about every six weeks. He requires regular allergy shots. We keep special cough medicine on hand. And this doesn’t even include the regular shots, check-ups, and heartworm and flea medications required to keep him healthy.

But we wouldn’t have it any other way. In fact, we wanted to adopt a senior dog and welcomed Scooter into our home when he was 10. His primary caretaker had died and no one in his immediate family wanted him because he was "too old." He was given up to a foster mother just when he needed a “real” family the most. Heartbreaking as that is, I have come to learn that this is a common reason why older canines are surrendered to animal shelters--and most don't make it out. Imagine abandoning your Grandfather because he was a senior citizen! One look at Scooter's downcast eyes and depleted demeanor when we met him, and we knew we had to bring him home.

Confusion seemed to rule his first few days with us. He didn't know us, and we didn't know him. And suddenly, he had a baby sister, Dixie, our five-year-old, seven-pound charismatic Chihuahua. For every inch of the room Dixie's charming personality-filled, Scooter's reticence overshadowed it. He moved with extreme caution, not sure to trust us or his newly minted future. That first week, we started to wonder if that adage, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" was really true. But soon, as if a light switch was turned on, the "real" Scooter began to unfurl.

Week two, as we put our pups to bed, Dixie jumped into his crate to cuddle with her new brother. Until then, he had given her barely a passing sniff. But that night, Scooter gave a grunt and snuggled up next to her. He was finally home.

Over the past four years, we've watched in awe as Scooter has taught us how to age with grace, dignity and acceptance, something we never 

expected the day we laid eyes on his frosted face. Yes, we wanted to adopt a more seasoned pup, but we had no idea that we would be the "old dogs learning new tricks." Every day, Scooter shows us how to navigate the world by living in the moment, finding happiness in the smallest things, and perhaps most importantly, championing unconditional love!

Scooter may have a few more healthy years left, but it’s just as likely he may have a few difficult ones, filled with frequent visits to the vet. We don't care. We'll love and support Scooter no matter what time brings him--or us for that matter.

Scooter today is healthy, happy, and ready for his afternoon walk. We will take it slowly, letting him sniff to his heart’s content, turning around for home when he gives us the signal. And as I watch my little pup move through the seasons, my hope is that as my husband and I turn more grey and start to slow down, others will give us the same amount of respect, compassion, and support that we abundantly give to our sweet old man.

                                                                          Teri

268 Useless Pancreas Society

 

Type 1 Diabetes or
The Useless Pancreas Society

I read a Facebook posting that stated that people with Type 1 Diabetes make many life-saving or life-ending decisions every day. Perhaps that is why we feel no one can understand our lives.

Trying to balance the amount of food, insulin and exercise so my blood sugar isn't too low (I've gone to the Emergency Room at least five times so far for that) or too high--that can kill you too, but no hospital visits from highs for me.

My doctor pointed out to me that the amount of insulin I take is a low dosage compared to other diabetics. That's still 5 shots per day--just a low amount per shot! That means that one unit over or under in my calculations can have dire consequences. As bad as it sounds, it made me happy because I have always felt guilty for not having perfect blood sugar control.

I have been a Type 1 Diabetic for 55 years and doctors' attitudes seem to have evolved from judgmental to collegial--or I have finally found the right doctors! Managing diabetes is a team effort with the diabetic doing most of the work so that seems the right approach to me.

Perhaps I should stop and explain Type 1. No diet or vitamin or cinnamon cure can handle it because the body cannot make insulin--no way, no how. Insulin injections are the only way to treat it, not cure it. Once a Type 1--you are a Type 1 for life!

Eating too much sugar did not cause it (and I hate all those, "I'm gonna get diabetes if I eat x," jokes!) Diabetes is an auto-immune disease with links to heredity. 

Type 1 Diabetics comprise about 5% of the diabetes population. We are special! You also hear the term Juvenile Diabetes because people generally contract it when they are young but juvenile diabetics are all ages.

There is a Facebook page called Beyond T-1; my illustrations have come from that page. Nick Jonas, the singer, helped found the Beyond T-1 organization:

"Jonas explains that when he was diagnosed with it in 2002 at age 13, he didn’t have a T1D community in which to turn.

“I felt pretty isolated initially,” says Jonas. “One of the reasons I was so drawn to being a part of Beyond Type 1 was ready to find ways we could build up the community and be a support to those who maybe felt the way I felt when I was diagnosed, which was very alone."  

https://beyondtype1.org/an-interview-with-nick-jonas/

I have enjoyed being part of the Beyond T1D community. Seeing my fears and feelings shared by others has made me feel better about my own care.

I have been lucky. I haven't lost a leg or foot to amputation. My heart is good; I have some mild diabetic retinopathy in my eyes, but I haven't gone blind. And I try not to think about all other complications that can come from diabetes. Diabetics have a greater risk of serious consequences from contracting coronavirus, but it seems that those with good blood sugar control, who don't have other issues such as heart or weight, have about the same chance of dying as the general population. 

One of my doctors told me about one of his patients, a ninety-year-old Type 1 diabetic who is still going strong! So I guess I can keep on chugging along!

                   Trish