Thursday, February 16, 2006

The minutiae of the moment.

Sometimes I examine the minutiae of a moment until an ache forms in both my head and my heart.

Waking up in the morning has my hand lazily grazing the black zipper case of my kit instinctively, making sure the second thing I do is test, only after upsetting the cat from sleeping on my head. Disconnect the pump and scrounge up a loose pump cap in efforts to stumble, bleary-eyed, towards the shower. Clothes for work are chosen, discarded, re-chosen, and the pump is integrated into my ensemble so that its slim outline and snaky tubing won't be seen.

First cup of coffee at work is greeted by the beeping of my pump as I bolus a unit for the much needed caffeine. Insurance papers spill from every file on my desk as I review policies, popping the 5 mg of l-Glutamin. Work for another hour, reach for that black zipper case. Feeling achy in the eyes. High? Or staring at the computer too long? Will I ever be able to distinguish without checking?

Sometimes I have no idea what I'm doing. Sometimes it shows. Sometimes I remember that I'm now twenty-seven years old and I have not yet made my mark.

Sometimes I'm scared.

Tonight I read a blog online about a man whose wife underwent a pancreas transplant a year ago. She's been cured of diabetes for almost a year. But in a cruel twist of irony, her kidney transplant has started to fail her, urging her towards dialysis and potentially another kidney transplant.

And I'm human. I felt swallowed by sadness when I read that. That woman, cured of her diabetes after such a long struggle, only to still be faced with the consequences of complications. I wanted to read that she was okay. That they went out dancing for Valentine's Day, instead of quietly acknowledging her failing body. My sleeve is damp from wiping my eyes and I don't even know these people. My ache is purely selfish. And I feel guilty for that.

I want to write something eloquent and inspiring but I'm not feeling that tonight. I'm mildly mired with misery. Most days, I don't think too much about diabetes. Or at least I don't notice that I'm thinking about it. The testing and bolusing and all the other maintenance becomes so seamlessly integrated that I don't realize I'm doing it.

But then there are days when the pump swells to the size of a grapefruit and the zipper on the black case seems to always stick. The counted carbs like dust in my mouth. The beeps of my machines echo off my heart.

If I were feeling more articulate, I would tell the story of the low that caught me in its net last night. How I tangibly felt my mind ebbing away from me. How nothing but his words kept me docked in this consciousness.

I would tell you about how his palm gently brushes my forehead at night to see if my forehead is clammy from a low, even when he thinks I've been fast asleep for hours. How he didn't think I knew and I wish I'd kept his secret. How he still does it, and I smile in my sleepiness.

Tonight is a night of feeling tangled in my words.

Tomorrow will make more sense to me.


At February 16, 2006 2:17 AM, Blogger Allison said...

If it helps, you've made a mark on me.

And for me, that means a lot.

At February 16, 2006 7:00 AM, Blogger Johnboy said...

Kerri, I have a sneaking suspicion that your ache for this couple was more than just selfishness. When I read your words, I see humanity, yes...I also see honesty and goodness.

Both Good things and bad things happen even to people who struggle and people who don't as much. Life is fragile. None of us knows the outcome or the complications it will present us.

One of the measures of a person's life is how it is lived and what kind of difference it has made to the world.

In regards to you, I agree with Allison...and remember, we are here for you as well.

At February 16, 2006 7:53 AM, Blogger Shannon said...

Sometimes you just need to give yourself a break from being strong.

Let yourself feel the gravity of having diabetes and then pick yourself up and move on.

You're allowed to have one of these days.

And I really hope you stay with your boy. Every time I read about him I say "This guy's a keeper!!"

At February 16, 2006 9:11 AM, Blogger Penny said...

Kerri, This one made me cry. It just shows that even though you think you're doing OK, the reality of D smacks you right in the face.

You are a strong girl. Like Shannon said, sometimes you need a break. I know. I've been told a lot how strong I am, but sometimes it become overwhelming because you feel like you always have to be that way, that you should never lean on someone else. It sounds like you have a great guy to lean on. But, when he's not around, you've always got us. (your invisible internet friends)

At February 16, 2006 10:51 AM, Blogger Kelsey said...

You've definitely made your mark Kerri. If on no one else (which I doubt!) at least on the OC who value you very much.

I'm also feeling down about this disease lately, so you're not alone. Diabetes, for lack of a better word, sucks! We put a good face on the disease for the most part, but we have to give ourselves permission to be down about it every once in awhile, or we'd never make it.

Thank you for so eloquently describing how you're feeling. It helps us all to understand our own thoughts and emotions.

At February 16, 2006 11:01 AM, Blogger Tekakwitha said...


Thinking of you today. Hang in there.


At February 16, 2006 11:49 AM, Blogger d double e said...

Its your passion, kid (The Passion of the Kerri.?).

As humans we suffer. And then we realize that we can also be happy... before we suffer again.

Just think about how Marissa Cooper felt when she shot her boyfriend's brother. And then her crush fell off a rock. And her dad disappeared to Hawaii.

Of coure, she still looked fabulous.

Thanks for making me feel fabulous too from time to time too, Coop.

At February 16, 2006 12:45 PM, Blogger julia said...

I don't think I can convey to you how much of a mark you've left on me. You are a total inspiration to me. I see how well you handle having diabetes, how you advocate for yourself and for others, how compassionate you are and how, even when you feel down and overwhelmed, you still inspire with your honesty. If my daughter can be half the woman you are, I will consider it a job well done.

You have made a huge difference in my long-term outlook on life with diabetes. I feel hopeful rather than fearful about Olivia's future now and most of that I put down to you and the other 20- and 30-something bloggers with D.

At February 16, 2006 1:38 PM, Blogger Kerri. said...

Thank you, you guys. I'm sorry I fell into such a foul mood last night. It was that blog post about the woman with the pancreas transplant that pushed me over the edge of reason. It was so distressing to read about someone who actually had the gift of a new pancreas and who still couldn't escape complications. I don't know ... it made me very moody.

But I appreciate the comments. And everything else you all have given me over the last year or so. This journey is tender and sore at times, but this support system is the boost I need at times to keep my wits about it all and get on with it.

So thank you for just being out there. Thank you for inspiring me every day. Thank you. Again and again and again.

At February 16, 2006 3:36 PM, Blogger Jamie said...

Everyone else has pretty much stated exactly what I think. Diabetes DOES suck - and we're allowed to have our days where this is really going to get to us. BUT, I'd say for the most part, you are more inspiring than anything. It's a huge comfort for me to read about your experiences - as I see my daughter grow, I know she, too, will face these things as well. I can't relate to what it's like, as I, myself, do not have D (I'd take it away from her for myself in a heartbeat if that were possible). So, reading about you - all the good things you do, how D does not get in the way of you living life is a huge comfort to me, as a parent.

Keep on writing - we have the best support through the O.C. - you find comfort in us - we find comfort in you :)

Don't we share nicely??

Oh, and tell Chris he is awesome!

At February 16, 2006 5:06 PM, Blogger mytime79 said...

Ummm... I think everyone said it, but I'll say it again.

You are allowed to have these feelings about "D" every once in a while. It's inevitable. The support you give to the all of us in the OC, through your writing and comments, is amazing. And as most people have already said, we're all here for you too!!

At February 17, 2006 11:44 AM, Blogger Sandra Miller said...

"If I were feeling more articulate, I would tell the story of the low that caught me in its net last night."

Kerri, I smiled when I read this line (after choking back tears while reading all that preceded it).

Because, young lady, I cannot imagine you being any more honest, inspiring -- and yes, articulate -- than you are in this post.

Please know that I appreciate (more than I can ever express) all that you so generously share here.

At February 18, 2006 7:55 AM, Blogger Melissa said...

Most people are never lucky enough to know the mark they have left. Maybe because we are spread out all over the country in front of computer screens, you can't feel it, but you have an amazing presence in this world. I thank you for sharing your life with us.

On a practical bolus for caffine? and thats what the other cap thing with the infusion set is for? It is amzing the things I don't know.

At February 18, 2006 9:52 PM, Blogger Carolyn said...


I have been reading your blog for a few months now and I have found your musings to be a comfort, a joy, an inspiration, a solace, a place to come read and know I am not alone, but at the same time that everything is fine the way it is.....

It is ok to feel the way you are feeling, there is something wrong if you don't acknowledge those feelings, go into them, embrace them, learn from them and come out of the other side that little bit more developed....

Take Care

At October 03, 2010 9:03 PM, Blogger Princess LadyBug said...


It's been years since you wrote these words. I found your blog by accident last night when I Google'd Eddie Izzard. The name of your blog drew me in. The surprise of discovering that you're a diabetic too made me decide to start from the beginning & read your archives.

You need not ever fear not making a mark in this world. You wrote these words over 3 years ago and they are still making an impact. I was just telling my best friend how tired I am of the struggle. That 19 years is just too long to have to keep up the fight. But the alternative is unthinkable.

I'm feeling better after reading so many of your blog postings. I can't wait to get to the You of now. I have a feeling I'll like her even more than the You of 2006. :)

Thanks for making your mark not just on the world, but on me.

(dx 06/15/1991 @ 22)


Post a Comment

<< Home