Returning to Syringes After Insulin Pump Usage

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This particular article pertains to one of many diabetes choices for self-care.  Although the choices to stay alive with this disease may seem limited, they do exist.

For example, food choices are a great factor and choice with a yes or no answer through a calculated decision; which exercise to perform on which day (constant and effervescent planning and scheduling) in order to break down calories and maintain an acceptable weight, encourage the body’s circulation, neurological and every other multitudinous life system;  maintaining a daily, constant schedule of repeat medication choices, be it insulin doses or pill forms.  I’m sure you can come up with a number of your own choices when attempting to balance this demon.

At his time in my life, I have been diabetic for more than 56 years.  Approximately twenty (20) years ago, I made the decision to purchase an insulin pump, go through the rigamorole of accomplishing this task alone, and live happily ever after.  (Buckroth, A. K.  My Diabetic Soul – An Autobiography, 2010, Prismatic Publishing, Roseville, CA, page 230).

My initial prompting to return to insulin injections is due to a second infection of an infusion site from the us of an infusion set. Although I use rubbing alcohol consistently on my body parts to do this when changing sites, rubbing the cleaned and chosen rotated area profusely, an infection occurred, again. A year ago last October (2014), an infection from a site in my left hip brought me to my GP’s (General Practitioner’s) office. It was red, swollen and pussy = infected. She took a fluid sample of the ‘wound,’ sent it to the lab, confirming E-coli. Ugh and WTH.  Placed on a 10-day antibiotic, I blamed that instance on my changing the set and site in my bathroom. I blamed me before anyone else had the chance to do so!

Use to having authority figures (doctors, nurses, medical staff personnel, etc.) blame me for any – any – wrong doing or misunderstanding of a diabetes hardship, I swallowed this one as well. I am OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) due to diabetes, meaning I am overly clean. My personal blame for this personal infraction is toward the insulin pump company. No,I did not alert them of this instance or the latest one either. “Why bother?” I asked myself.  “They” are only going to, once again, list involved variables, try to gain facts, and point to me, the user/operator.

You see, I am tired – tired of having to fight medical establishments for proper care.  Tired of one doctor sending me–referring me–to another because he or she does not know or does not want to be bothered with any one of my circumstances. Period.  Not only have I learned to take care of myself, my adult years have further encouraged such strategic and minute care through holistic, naturopathic, herbology, and ayurvedic measures through lengthy internet research.

The insulin pump has terribly scarred my body.  It has caused an increase in my white blood cell count for good reason after having an intrusive–albeit plastic needle in my person constantly–decreasing my already weakened immune system.  Twenty years is a long time for anything, never mind having to have an intrusive needle in your person day-after-day-after-day.

Although having diabetes, juvenile diabetes (T1D), has been accepted through force upon me through no choice of my own, and to me from family and friends, it continues to remain misunderstood – until an individual or a loved one are singled out by the powers that be to become a diabetic.  Through these many years, diabetes has been embarrassing, even humiliating to deal with.  It’s not easy, as with any disease.

Therefore, with all this said and done, my decision to return to insulin injections remains specifically due to the popularity of insulin pens: the needle heads are smaller, thinner, unable to intimidate nerve damage, scarring, bruising, bleeding, discomfort and infection(s).  I was brought up with injections.  Two shots a day through a glass and metal contraption (way before disposable needles) containing NPH (pig and cow insulin) for “long lasting” control and Regular insulin, “fast acting” insulin twice a day.  Returning to that necessity is my goal.

Perhaps I am reverting to my younger self, when childhood was brighter, my knowledge of self-care was new and hopeful.  However, as an older adult, I once again must confront the young doctor(s) to listen to my plea.  I have had diabetes longer than any of them have been born, never mind longer than they have been doctors!

Reality is frightening when pleading for a change as a cure is on a distant horizon.

Just sayin’.

A. K. Buckroth

Brain & Nervous System

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Regarding human beings, they (we, as I am human) all have a brain and a nervous system.  So?

Well, recently invited to a seminar on the topic of “Neuropathy,” other keywords were adamantly recognized:

  • Thyroid,
  • Hashimoto,
  • Diabetes,
  • Chronic Pain,
  • Lethargy (low energy),
  • Inability to Lose Weight,
  • Depression,
  • Lobe Inflammation,
  • Dopamine,
  • Seratonin,
  • Red Blood Cells,
  • Temporal Lobe Seizures,
  • Gaba (sounds like an herbal tea to me!),
  • Cortizol,
  • Acetocholine (Huh?),
  • Nitric Oxide Activation,
  • PEMF Therapy, and more — yes, more.

Are any of these familiar to you?  To your loved one(s)?

Having lived and meticulously dealt with demon diabetes for many decades, neuropathy has slighted me.  It is an aggravating, non-stop, continuous companion that I do not like or want.  My attempts to rid of it with a controlled diet and exercise keep it calm.  However, it will not disappear.  Due to being a “T1D,” (T!D), diabetes is uncontrollable.  Believe it.  Know it.

Constantly led from one physician to another throughout my life (diabetologists (that no longer exist), endocrinologists, neurologists, general practitioners, family practitioners, etc., etc.,) along with the prescription drugs they offer, my chronic pain persists and worsens.  Cures for anything are existential (unique and alone), laughable, unrealistic, surreal (expressing the workings of the subconscious), and now I’m off topic!

Bottom line: During this seminar, I learned that many, if not all, of the aforementioned human problems can be controlled if not alleviated.  This link will lead you in the right direction to seeking helpful understanding, appreciation, and kind attention to lingering physical problems: http://drjamesmartinsacramento.com/.

I am glad I attended.  Many facts were brought to my attention that I never would have thought of on my own – due to chronic pain, lethargy, and whatever.  I hope you take this opportunity to review the website hosted by the esteemed Dr. James Martin, Functional Neurology And Integrative Pastoral Medicine (Eh?).  You’ll learn a lot in a brief period.

As always, my intentions are good, focused on the general public and its prosperous welfare.

Just sayin’.

A. K. Buckroth, author. (#buckroth)

 

 

 

Diabetes TRUE Nightmares

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5 Nightmares You Don’t Know Until You’re Diabetic

2015-04-06 – Originally published at Cracked.com by Ryan Menezes, Zachary Ullman.

Hey, remember when everybody was freaking out about Ebola, because of an outbreak that killed more than 10,000 people? Well, diabetes kills 1.5 million people a year worldwide, more than 200,000 of them in the U.S. And you’re probably never more than a few dozen feet away from someone who has it — there are 30 million diabetics in the U.S. alone.

5 Nightmares You Don't Know Until You're Diabetic
Picture credit: Comstock/Stockbyte/Getty Images

 

In other words, for something most people consider too boring to even think about, the scale of the epidemic is mind-boggling. The U.S. alone spends an astonishing quarter of a trillion dollars a year fighting it. Or to put it another way, diabetes sucks a thousand bucks out of every single man, woman and child in America, every year.

We previously debunked the myth that sugar causes diabetes, and when we talked to someone with one variety of the disease, we learned about the parts of the experience you never hear about. He says…

#5. The Disease And The Treatment Can Both Send You To The Emergency Room

Our diabetic, Zach, once woke up in the middle of the night starving, his legs feeling near-paralyzed. His memory of the incident is hazy, but the next thing he knew, he was on a kitchen chair wearing only his boxers with an empty jar of raspberry jam on the table — he’d eaten nearly the entire thing with his bare hands like fucking Winnie the Pooh.

When he tested his blood sugar, it was 45 (the normal level is between 80 and 100). Anything below 70 is hypoglycemia, yet even after eating an entire jar of what is essentially pure sugar, his blood sugar level was still near emergency levels. If we’re being completely honest, it’s remarkable that he ever even woke up to eat that jam. By all rights he should’ve died in his bed. So this shit can get serious, is what we’re saying.

“Wait,” you ask, “isn’t diabetes that disease where you just can’t eat sugar, and have to take insulin every once in a while?” Oh, if only it was that simple.

For starters, you might be mixing up two very different types of diabetes (more on that in a bit). And when diabetics who inject insulin get their dose wrong, things can get bad fast. These problems (“insulin-related hypoglycemia and errors”) spark almost 100,000 emergency room visits a year (more visits than those related to all stimulants, including methamphetamine). A third of those visits require hospitalization, because despite how common and treatable it is, diabetes can still straight-up murder your sorry ass.

On another occasion when he was in college, Zach knew his blood sugar was low before he went to bed, so he popped a few glucose tablets and went to sleep, thinking that would straighten everything out. He woke up with the sensation of sour rust in his mouth — that’s the taste of epinephrine, and it means things are catastrophically bad.

“When I checked my blood sugar,” he says, “it was too low for the meter to give a number.” He’d already eaten all his glucose tablets, so Zach needed to think of a solution quickly or he’d soon be unable to do anything to help himself. “Somehow I remembered there was a vending machine nearby. I bought a bottle of Pepsi, drained it in two seconds, and told a person in the dorm common room all about diabetes, at the speed of 400 words per minute.”

If these episodes sound like bad drug trips gone wrong, well …

#4. Fucked-Up Blood Sugar Gets You High And/Or Drunk

If you see your roommate eating an entire trash bag full of discount Halloween candy, the go-to joke is something like, “Enjoy your diabetes, dude!” That’s because in popular culture, the disease can be a result of poor diet and lack of exercise. But again, it’s not that simple. You can in fact be born with the genes that cause it.

Type 2 diabetes (previously called “adult-onset diabetes”) is the one you probably associate with eating too much candy, as hauntingly portrayed by Jeremy Renner in Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters. With that type, your genes and often poor diet cause you to overwork the insulin-producing cells. But Type 1 diabetes is an entirely different beast. Here, your immune system decides to kill those insulin-producing cells, and this type is waiting for you when you pop out of the womb. That was the situation for Zach, who was just 15 months old when he was diagnosed, making him one of 3 million Type 1 diabetics in the U.S. Plus, plenty of people are only diagnosed with Type 1 after they turn 18, after being misdiagnosed by doctors with Type 2 for years.

A healthy body produces insulin to control the sugar (or glucose) in your blood stream. Type 1 diabetics can’t produce insulin, while Type 2’s produce it, but their bodies don’t process it correctly. Too little insulin, and your blood sugar levels go shooting rapidly up, like the heart rate of somebody getting chased by a bear. Too much insulin, and your blood sugar eventually plummets, like the heart rate of someone who has just been eaten by a bear. And the effects of jacked-up blood sugar are weird. Diabetics describe high blood sugar (hyperglycemia) as slowing everything down and slathering it with whipped cream. Your brain gets fuzzy, and your eyes feel tethered to your head with frayed ropes — it really is a kind of high. Just not a good kind.

Low blood sugar (hypoglycemia), meanwhile, is a bit like being drunk. For one thing, it impairs driving. Zach is usually super cautious about driving on low sugar, but his level plummeted once when he was on the road, giving him muscle spasms. He pulled over and quaffed some glucose gel, which we are sure would’ve looked like an intoxicated person pulling over to get even more high to a passing trooper. So being diabetic is like living in a world where, even with the best control, there are days where you can suddenly become uncomfortably drunk or high at any moment, without any of the fun.

And when we say “any moment,” we mean it …

#3. Sex Gives You A Sugar High

In theory, stress raises your blood sugar because hormones like adrenaline release glucose, fueling your muscles for fight or flight. And in experiments with diabetic animals, stress always raises blood sugar. However, according to Zach, “stress and panic tends to make my blood sugar run low.” Despite the fact that this makes no sense given what we know about the human body, he’s not the only one to experience this apparent witchcraft.

On the other hand, sex should theoretically reduce your blood sugar because it’s physical exertion. But for Zach and some other random diabetics, sex actually raises it. “I have no idea why,” he says. “The last time I asked a certified diabetes educator about that, she laughed and gave me a weird look.” Neither one of those responses is particularly encouraging.

Sexually active diabetics are supposed to keep three things on their nightstands: condoms, a glucose meter, and sugar tablets. It’s not particularly romantic to test your blood sugar right after orgasming, but it would be worse to fall unconscious immediately after a passionate lovemaking session (or during a passionate lovemaking session) and force your partner to call an ambulance to come collect your sex-stained body. Zach has also met severely undereducated people who think diabetes is transmitted sexually, so it’s probably best to have your personal medical history spread out on a nightstand to get that conversation out of the way immediately.

But far more often than that, presumably, he has to deal with the fact that …

#2. Every Meal Is A Minefield

When Zach was kid, a teacher was once handing out cupcakes but refused to give one to him, telling him “You’ll die if you eat that,” because apparently Zach went to school in a Roald Dahl novel. He ate one anyway, and checked his blood sugar afterward to discover that it was still low, meaning he could’ve eaten even more cupcake and still not have died. In other words, it’s not as simple as “avoid sugar.”

When he was 13, he once went trick-or-treating dressed as an IRS agent, and he collected money for diabetes research. The media thought this a heartbreaking story that they’d love to cover: The inspiring, sickly kid couldn’t eat sugar on this candilicious holiday, so he devoted himself to good works instead. You can actually watch the TV interview and hear Zach patiently explain that he still totally plans on collecting candy in addition to the diabetes fundraising (the interviewer heroically ignores this information).

That’s the thing — Zach can eat whatever he wants (get thoughts of sugar-free candy out of your mind; diabetics like him never touch the stuff). He just needs to pump himself with the appropriate dose of insulin, kind of like what the pancreas does in all you normies. It makes no difference whether the carbs in their food are in the form of china white pixy sticks or black tar quinoa — it all turns to glucose in the end, and the injected insulin can handle it. However, figuring out the dose can be a pain in the ass, and as we’ve discussed already, screwing it up can be disastrous.

“Things like Pop-Tarts and other sugary products are easy,” he says. “You would just take all the insulin you need two to five minutes before you eat.” With other foods, it’s more complicated. “Pizza takes a long time to digest. Some of the protein and fat in pizza is converted into glucose. You have to figure out how long it takes and how much is converted. After trial and a lot of error, I figured out I need to time my dose for pizza as: one-third of the insulin right before I begin eating, two-thirds over the next three and a half hours.” Now imagine you had to do that for every single meal. We would probably just stop eating, because we hate math.

High-fiber foods add a whole other level of bullshit, because they take longer to digest than regular food. And then alcohol is a special kind of bastard, because it’s loaded with carbohydrates but also blocks the glucose that the liver ordinarily releases. And no matter how much experience you have with food, you’ll inevitably come across a dish that trips you up.

A couple months ago, Zach met his ultimate nemesis: a giant plate of chicken nachos. He underestimated the fat, so the meal kept sending more glucose into his system after his insulin wore off. As we mentioned, a normal blood sugar level is between 80 and 100 techno-units — anything above 140 is hyperglycemia, which eventually screws you up bad. Zach’s blood sugar exploded to 482, way higher than the danger threshold. After he jacked in some insulin just in time, he then reveled in the experience of drinking four glasses of water and peeing three times an hour for the entire night.

Delights like this are why …

#1. The Treatment Can Turn You Into A Cyborg

There are two mechanical devices connected to Zach’s body at all times (except when he’s exercising, showering, or having sex, which is basically a combination of showering and exercising). One is an insulin pump, which infuses his body with insulin via a plastic tubing and a tiny needle. “Sometimes,” says Zach, “the adhesive of the set that connects it to you wears off, causing it to fall out. Other times it becomes so itchy you want to rip off that part of your skin.” The other device is a continuous glucose monitor, whose receiver sits in your pocket but which requires you to insert a transmitter into your body like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall.

Some people shrink at the thought of being hooked up to machines at all times, so they go for lower-tech solutions like manual insulin injections and pinpricks to test their blood sugar. Those are still backups even when you choose to go high-tech, so regardless of which avenue you take, having diabetes means stabbing the shit out of yourself with needles all of the time.

Zach started using the pump back in 1995, when the invention was brand new and almost never used by kids. A teacher of his once mistook it for a cell phone and tried to confiscate it. A friend of Zach’s actually did get her pump confiscated by a teacher, which resulted in a $10,000 settlement and a new set of guidelines training teachers how to accommodate diabetic students (including recognizing insulin pumps as life-giving robot friends and not pagers).

It can be pretty inconvenient to walk around with a tube connected to your body at all times. Once at a friend’s house, a puppy chewed through Zach’s insulin tubing before he knew what was happening. Every time he goes to the airport, the TSA (which does have special protocol for diabetic passengers) swabs the pump with explosives-detecting powder then does a pat-down and wanding. If the pump instead went through the X-ray machine, the rays would completely erase its memory.

And diabetics are only going to get even more cybernetic in the future, thanks to the newly developed bionic pancreas, which means we may soon see Will Smith battling a group of diabetics on the top floor of a skyscraper. The bionic pancreas currently uses four separate devices, including an iPhone linking them all together. In 2017, it’s set to shrink to a single device, and it’ll just keep getting smaller, as medical devices do (“The first generation of insulin pumps,” notes Zach, “were the size and weight of high school backpacks”).

Some scientists, who laugh at the constraints of nature and God, plan to genetically alter the pancreas to release insulin when prompted by radio waves, which means treating diabetes with a remote-controlled pancreas. So, maybe in the near future science will somehow fix both kinds of diabetes with a simple pill you take once a day. But until then, the plan is to just keep turning more and more of their bodies into robots. And honestly, have we ever run into a problem that couldn’t be solved that way?

 

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Diabetes Care Goes On at Night…

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…it has to.  As the following links attest, parents, caregivers, concerned non-diabetics are necessary – but not always available – to care for the diabetic during any night.

And that is any diabetic, no matter the age.

“Living in the T1D Box” by Patrice Cocco is an excellent article, a knowledgeabl article, concerning diabetes care.  She and her husband know first hand.  Their son is a T1D.

Please copy, paste and read: http://perlebioscience.com/living_in+the+T1D_box and http://perlebioscience.com/get_a_new_endo/

My further advocacy of this disease attempts to not just help people understand the continual, minute-by-minute dramatizations of this disease, but to make people understand – or at least appreciate – the circumstances involved.  They are quite phenomenally explosive.  Truly.  I know.  I am a T1D.  An older one, but one just the same.

Just sayin’…A. K. Buckroth  www.mydiabeticsoul.com

P. S. If these links are not clickable to you via this website, please copy and paste them to a comfortable reading platform.  Short reads, they both are thorough.  You need to know…

 

 

Getting Work Done!

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Accomplishing what may seem like simple tasks to some people can become chaotic encumbrances when a person is faced with many tasks in one day.  Let me explain.

As a person who receives self-accolades on what I accomplish each day, at times I am overwhelmed.  I don’t look for anyone to say to me “Oh, you did a great job,” or “I like blah blah blah.”  I just do things, many things, and do not expect an appreciable comment.  This conundrum is my own fault, I know.  But I have narrowed this business of a busy life to one thing: a self-diagnosis of OCD = Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

As an author, one of many joys in my life is to write.  I have written and self-published books, ideas for books, articles, blogs such as this one, reminder notes to myself or someone else, e-mails to lots of people, lists of things to do and a grocery list.  Part of my problem is that I work at home.  For instance, if I stay in one place (office) too long, one dog or another will nudge me for attention.  Relentless, they need exercise and just plain want my attention.  That’s a good thing, really.  Exercise was my main goal when I first got these beloved creatures.  So, after throwing their tennis balls up and down the hall for a half hour, they rest and I begin another project – maybe laundry.

Maybe vacuuming, maybe talking on the phone, maybe visiting a neighbor, maybe preparing lunch and dinner,  maybe listening calmly to a friend.  Maybe gardening.  Maybe harvesting one of four gardens.  Maybe mowing the lawn.  Maybe grocery shopping, Maybe dusting.  Maybe, maybe, maybe.  All in all, I can’t sit still!  At least not for too long.

The term for this is “multi-tasking.”  Do you do this?

For now, I will get back to writing – at least for a little while.  I’m waiting to hear the dryer buzz, informing me that the laundry is dry.  Now it will need to be folded.

Phew!

Just sayin’…A. K. Buckroth.

 

Stem Cell News!

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In this article, please take what you need and leave the rest – pertaining to the knowledgeable news.

The video is long.  The verbage somewhat confusing if you are not a scientist or a researcher or a medical professional or student.

None the less, I need to share this positive news with you.  It is hopeful for the cure of diabetes as well as other diseases.

Just sayin’….

A. K. Buckroth  www.mydiabeticsoul.com.

http://us1.campaign-archive2.com/?u=513b92eb0bf6c17f06cca149d&id=172ff9b231

 

Uh – Oh…Younger Diabetics are Missing Out!

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According to the following link, a short-read, states – but does not explain why – younger diabetics (yes, you T1Ds) are skipping visits to your endocrinologists.

I can only imagine what your excuses are.  I’ve gone through them, all of them.  I was a ‘younger’ diabetic.  Now I am an old T1D.

http://www.endocrinologyadvisor.com/diabetes-patients-skipping-doctors-visits/article/396176/.

Too many of your excuses can lead to your lack of communication, your lack of self-care, your lack of complication avoidance, your lack of updates, your lack of reality with this disease, your lack of numerous etceteras.

Children, this is a fateful disease you live with, every minute of every day!  Grow some self-respect.  There are consequences for everything.  They only get worse if ignored.  I repeat: this is a disease that needs constant attention, constant policing, constant support.

Many – MANY – resources are avialable to you.  You must look for them in your area, through your endocrinologist and/or general practitioner.  You need to look for them, search for them.  You don’t have to like them.  But, if that is the case, there are others that will help you manage this disease. Whether in need of medical co-pays, or transportation to get you there and back, or time away from school (AB 504), or time away from activities, it is all up to you to manipulate your schedule and your care.  You are important.  Believe it.

Use diabetes as the factored reason to take care of yourself!  It can be a blessing, truly, to keep you healthy – mind, body and soul.

Allright, enough from me.

So, did you make that appointment?  What is your HbA1C these days?  How’s your kidney? Liver? Thyroid? Adrenals? Leukocytes? Etc., Etc., Etc.

Take care…Just sayin’.

www.mydiabeticsoul.com

A. K. Buckroth

To T1Ds: You’re Not Alone!

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Searching and researching a comfortable conversation, a platform, to encourage T1Ds (Type One Diabetics) has finally been accomplished.  Through the Joslin Diabetes Foundation, I found the following link that is full of vidoeos to share with all my readers.  Please take a moment or two to view these.  All the videos help to explain this disease in every possible aspect.

You see, when I was diagnosed in 1959, “juvenile diabetes” as it was referred to, was not an epidemic.  Through the decades, it has surpassed epidemia and is now a pandemic.  I know.

Thank you for your time.  Please leave a comment at the end.

A. K. Buckroth.

Me & My Money Too…a child’s story with diabetes

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This second chapter book continues the series – a trilogy, perhaps… …to reinstate the main diabetic characters: Kali, now ten years old, and her adopted dog, Money, now 2 years old.

My written attempts to express the life responsibilities, concerns and strategies of a T1D child and that of a diabetic dog are represented in this book.

Here is a ‘reminder’ excerpt that began this expressive and attentive book series.  I am sure you will enjoy it.  From Chapter 3, here we go…

“My family and I adopted Money during summer vacation last year. That was before I began fifth grade. Many months later, I noticed he was acting unusual – not eating, drinking a lot of water, peeing a lot, and not being his usual happy and active self. I knew he did not feel well. His breath was very stinky strong! Like dog food barf. Bad like that.

After telling my parents about what I saw and suspected, my mother made an appointment for the three of us – Mom, Money and me – to see Money’s veterinarian, Dr. Wooden. He is a nice older man that we met when we first got Money. He was very gentle with Money. I remember his hands and how he calmly touched Money during that first examination. He spoke gently to Money, telling him what a good boy he was, to stay still, and such. Dr. Wooden slowly, gently, glided his hands over Money’s body, feeling for anything that was not supposed to be there.

Once the examination was done, Dr. Wooden gave Money a couple of necessary vaccination shots like rabies, something listed as “bortadella” and another one so he wouldn’t get heart worms. That sounds awful, the heart worm part. I don’t like to think about that happening! Ick!

This time, I shared my concerns with Dr. Wooden regarding Money’s recent behavior. Dr. Wooden immediately told my mother and me that he would need to run some blood tests on Money.

Dr. Wooden listened closely to what I was telling him. I liked that.  He asked me lots of questions about Money such as: “What did Money eat everyday and when? What type of exercise did he get? When did he sleep? Did I give him dog cookies or table scraps or both?   How did he act in the morning — was he perky and happy or sleepy, lazy-like, uncaring?” I answered all his questions.

Dr. Wooden tested Money’s blood with a lancet (pricker) pen and a glucometer (blood glucose testing machine) that is similar to mine. I watched him but I do not know what that result was. After that first test, Dr. Wooden requested more extensive blood work right away! This meant that Money would have to stay overnight – in the hospital! Oh, that was awful! I did not want to leave him there. He cried and whined and pulled on his leash and jumped up and down when my mother and I were leaving. That made me sad. I cried a little.

On the way home, I knew I had to call Wayne right away.  He’s my best friend and he knows Money.  I just had to tell him.  Once inside the door, I ran upstairs to my bedroom and found my phone.  I sat on the floor next to Money’s bed pillow and I pressed Wayne’s number.

“Rriinngg, rriinngg.”

“Hello?”

“Hi Wayne!”

Hey Kali.  Guess what I did on my train village set up?  I didn’t have a chance to tell you in school today.  I added some new pieces.”

“Wayne, Money is in the hospital,” I blurted.

“Whaaat?!” he exclaimed.  “Why?  What happened?”

I repeated the worrisome details, talking so fast I was out of breath.

“Geez, Kali,” Wayne responded.  “Do you know when he’s getting out?”

“Yah.  My mother and I will pick him up tomorrow after school,” I told him.  “Dr. Wooden will tell us if anything is wrong.”

“I hope he’s not diabetic, Kali.  If he is, will you have to give him shots?”

“Probably,” I answered.  “But I don’t like to thing about that just yet.  I miss my Money and can’t wait to get him home tomorrow.”  My throat got tight talking about him.

“Money will be okay.  Don’t worry,” Wayne tried to reassure me.  “I’ve gotta get going on my chores and then my homework.  I’ll look for you in school tomorrow,” Wayne told me.

“Yep, okay, me too.  Bye Wayne.  Thanks.”

“Bye Kali.”

Even though talking with Wayne made me feel better, I was still worried about Money.  I couldn’t sleep.  But I knew that Money was in the hospital for a good reason.  Dr. Wooden and his staff were nice.  I felt that I trusted them.  I knew that Money would be well taken care of.  But I missed him.  I missed him bad.

The next day at school, I thought about nothing else but Money.  I couldn’t concentrate on my school work.  I was anxious and nervous.  My belly was shaky inside.  At one point, Mr. Wallace, our algebra teacher (whom we kids nicknamed “Scruffy Face” because of his beard) asked me to stay after class.

“What is wrong with you today, Kali?” he sternly asked lifting his bushy eyebrows.  “You’re not paying attention.”

“My dog is in the hospital,” my voice quivered.  “I’m worried about him.”

“Oooooh, I understand,” he said.  “Well, I’m sure he’ll be all right.  When do you get Him?  Do you know yet?”

“Today, after school.  My mother is picking me up so I won’t have to take the bus and we’re going to get him out and find out why he’s been so sick.  I think he’s diabetic, like me, which means a lot of things.  I know a lot about diabetes, but I don’t know too much about diabetes in dogs and I’m a little scared, I guess.”  Phew, that was a lot to say in one breath!

“Mmm,” sounded Sruffy Face.  “This is important.  But I need you to concentrate on these new algebra formulas.  These are important too.  I have an aunt whose cat has diabetes.  But Cupcake, the cat, is doing very well.”

“Does your aunt have to give Cupcake shots?”

“Oh yes, twice a day,” he said.  “And Cupcake eats a healthy diet for a cat and is as happy as ever.  Maybe a little too pudgy.  But she is happy.”

“Thank you, Scruf- I mean Mr. Wallace.  I’ll try my best to work on my algebra formulas.”

“Okay, Kali.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  You’re one of my best students, you know.  I want you to continue to do well in my class.” he said with a smile as his long black, bushy eyebrows wiggled on his forehead.

“Okay,” I told him.

I felt better after sharing his news about my Money with Mr. Wallace. 

After school that fateful day, my mother and I went to the animal hospital to get Money and find out what was done, along with any diagnosis.  While seated in the office lobby for forever, one of Dr. Wooden’s nurses brought Money to us.  Oh my gosh!  He was so-oo-oo happy and excited to see us!  Jumping up and down, licking my hands, sniffing my mother and me, his tail going round and round, we were happy to see him too!

“Dr. Wooden will be right in to see you,” the nurse said.

“Okay.  Thank you,” replied my mother.

The three of us sat quietly, anxiously waiting for Dr. Wooden to come through the door.  Money placed his bandaged right front paw on my lap, staring at me.  I rubbed his leg and told him he will be fine, such a good boy, while kissing his head and rubbing his ears.  The bandage caused him to limp a little.  That spot was probably sore because Dr. Wooden had to take more blood.  Also, that particular spot had been shaved to get access to a vein.  I felt sad to see Money with a bandage.  But I knew he was going to be better now.  Like me, when I have to have a blood test every two months to show that me and my diabetes are staying balanced.  Something called an HbA1c — H-B-A-1-C — test shows my average blood sugars during that time period.  What I call “a good score” is 6.5%.  I’ve been as low as 6.2% and as high as 7.1%.  The highest number is 14%.  That’s really really bad from what my doctor told me!  

I don’t understand all of it.  But I do know that keeping my blood sugars in the range of 80 and 120 is better than them being high, that’s for sure.  It is very — very — hard to keep blood sugars between 80 and 120 day after day.  I just do the best I can.

“Hello Kali, Mrs. Landgren,” Dr. Wooden said as he walked through the examining room door.  Money went right over to him, smelling his coat, his shoes.  “Good boy, Money.  How are you feeling, huh?  I bet you’re feeling much better.”  I remember he petted and rubbed Money’s back and ears and Money liked that.  Holding a file in one arm — probably Money’s medical record — Dr. Wooden looked at me, saying “Kali, you were right.  Money has diabetes.” 

Author’s Note….

This continuing story book not only gives highlighted attentions to T1Ds, but to diabetes in animals as well.  According to my research, such a factor has risen 300% in the past decade.

Kali and Money are bonded through diabetes.  They take care of each other which is experienced with loving dog owners worldwide.  “Care” and “loving” are the keywords.

Revealing more of her young life experiences as a T1D, Kali and Money continue to be courageous in this second children’s book.  Her family understands and appreciates what needs to be done on a daily basis – diets, exercise, insulin, and planning.

Approximately 140 pages long, this book – as the others – are appropriate for 8 year olds.  It is as much fun to read as it was to write.  I am delighted to have been able to prepare this for you.  This story reflects many – not all – of the realities involved in the lives of juvenile diabetics/T1Ds.

Thank you for visiting me.  I always appreciate your purchases, reviews, and comments.

Just lettin’ you know…

A. K. Buckroth, fB, Twitter, Smashwords, Amazon.com, Kindle, Barnes&Noble Nook, www.mydiabeticsoul.com.

Positive book reviews at Amazon.com are welcome.  Please be in touch!

 

Synonyms and Homonyms

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As a published author and writer, the use of synonyms and homonyms has been most beneficial to my writing tasks.  They are also fun to use, fun to learn.  However, I have seen and heard the confusion concerning synonyms and homonyms. Many people, especially elemental youngsters, do not know the difference between the two and therefore do not know how to use one or the other.  Well, practice makes perfect and I would like to help…

The American Heritage Dictionary defines a synonym as ” a word that has a meaning identical or very similar to that of another word in the same language.”  Furthermore, a homonym is defined as “one of two or more words that have the same sound and often the same spelling but differ in meaning.”

Repeat after me:  “Homonym same, Synonym mean.  Homonym same, Synonym mean.”

Why use them?  The use of such words in your writing and/or speaking will keep you, your readers, and listeners far from boredom. Instead of using the same descriptive words, verbs, pronouns. or words of any sort in your text and/or essays and/or speeches, synonyms and homonyms will enhance your knowledge and increase the knowledge of expression between  yourself and others.

Both types of words are actually fun to use. At least it is fun to me. But as I told you already, I am a writer and I’m always looking to express my typed word in a different manner.  😀  I try to keep my readers focussed with the attention on my message(s).  Is it working?!

As a hint,  the best way I always remember homonyms is with the word “same” — homonyms sound the same – as expressed in the above mantra.   For instance, bear and bare,  shoe and shoo,  meat and meet,  eye and I, new and knew, see and sea, slow and slough, night and knight,  etc.  The use of these words greatly depends upon the context of your sentence or sentences.

Click here:  http://www.abcteach.com/free/l/list_homonyms.pdf

Here are more examples of honomyms taken from a Google search for your better understanding:

Angle: figure formed by two lines projecting from the same point; ALSO, to fish with a hook.

Groom: the guy marrying the bride; ALSO, taking care of one’s appearance.

Clip: to cut/shear; ALSO, to fasten together (a la paper clip).

Down: the direction opposite of “up;” ALSO, the feathers of a goose.

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http://synonyms-antonyms.com/synonyms-list.html — Words that MEAN the same…

Here are some examples of synonyms taken from a Google search  for your better understanding once again: piece = part, item; plot = drive, guide, maneuver; theme = base, root, stem; etc.

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_are_100_examples_of_synonyms#slide=10&article=What_are_100_examples_of_synonyms

I hope this bit (crumb, morsel, iota) is useful.  With creativity, you can express yourself in words by changing nouns into verbs and vice versa using synonyms.  Try it!  A Thesaurua is a useful tool(implement, pawn, utensil)!

Just sayin’…

A. K. Buckroth  www.mydiabeticsoul.com