Written by: Dani Petrunich, CDN Student Blogger

I know the doctor says that excessive peeing and extreme thirst are signs of diabetes, but a real diabetic will tell you that these are the actual indicators of a T1D! 

• You immediately know the difference between a sip of regular Coke and a sip of Diet Coke.
• You know the carbs in a glass of milk, a pack of Goldfish, a slice of bread, and a bag of Skittles, among numerous other foods…and if you don’t know it, then you can make a pretty damn good guess.
• All the boxes you use to move stuff in say “Medtronic” on the side.
• You always have some sort of food or drink on you.
• You’re tight with the school nurse/campus health and wellness center.
• You have strange tan lines of circles and squares all over your stomach.
• You find test strips literally everywhere…
• You can down a 16 oz. bottle of juice in 3 seconds flat.
• Your friends always rely on you and your pump for time checks during practice.
• You always get patted down and your bags are always checked at the airport.
• You have an uncomfortable amount of crumbs in your sheets.
• Your friends ask if you’re drunk when you text them during a low.
• You are totally unphased by blood and needles at this point…
• You have more prescriptions than the old lady down the street.
• You have no patience for inaccurate diabetes jokes or advertisements.
• You have carb-counting and BG Log apps on your phone.
• You always get a room with a fridge and call the side of the bed next to the nightstand when you stay in a hotel.
• You can always be counted on by your friends to be the responsible one of the group.
• You find yourself on hold with your health insurance company way more than you would like…
• You’re pretty opinionated about stem cell research.
• Your excuse for being late is generally “Sorry, I lost my meter again!”
• You can’t help but get excited when you see someone else with an insulin pump on their hip.
• You’re awesome.

Written by: Dani Petrunich, CDN Student Blogger

This week’s post is dedicated to my home city of Boston and all those affected by the recent tragedy- let’s show the world how tough Bostonians really are.

I woke up to a sunny sky and birds chirping outside my window on a glorious Monday morning.  It was April 15- Tax Day, my sister’s 19^th birthday, Patriots’ Day, and Marathon Monday- and I had the day off of classes, along with every other Massachusetts school, to celebrate the day’s festivities.  I had been looking forward to the holiday for the past few weeks- “Marathon Monday is one of the greatest days of the year!” I had been telling my friends in anticipation.  Last year a couple pals and I hopped on the T and made the short trip into the bustling city of Boston to check out the marathon.  It was about 90 degrees that day as we strolled around the city, exploring, shopping, and eating our way toward the race.  We eventually found ourselves at the finish line of the Boston Marathon and watched as runners from all over the world completed an incredible feat-26.2 miles of running!  It was such a neat event, and it was one of my favorite days of freshman year- the weather was finally getting warmer, and the Boston Marathon seemed to mark the beginning of the end of a strenuous school year.  It was a magnificent day, spent in the company of friends and jolly strangers, all gathered together to enjoy the race, the day, and the amity of others.

I had hoped to travel into the city again this year to make another wonderful race memory for 2013, but my coach scheduled lacrosse practice from 10-12 in the morning and I would’ve missed a lot of the day’s merriments by the time I’d be able to get into Boston.  Instead, I enjoyed a balmy practice on our turf field, ate a leisurely lunch with my friends, and planned to spend the rest of the day in the library, getting ahead on all the work that’s due in these final two weeks of classes.  As I packed up my backpack, preparing to spend the rest of the day with my nose buried in a textbook, my Mom texted me from work.  “Have u heard about explosions at marathon finish line?” I quickly flipped the TV in our common room to channel 5 and sure enough, I saw a view of the deserted finish line of the Boston Marathon with debris everywhere.  Once I started watching the news, I couldn’t stop.

I sat staring at the screen in shock for around two hours.  The footage only seemed to get worse as time wore on- the images of empty streets turned to videos of the two bombs going off, and that turned into footage of bloody bystanders being whizzed away in ambulances.  As news of the tragedy spread, it became hard to reach anyone in the Boston area as phone lines were crowded with incoming calls.  I was eventually able to reach my family and friends and tell them that my roommates and I were okay…actually, everyone I knew who was in the city was, by some miracle, okay.  I had friends running, volunteering, and just hanging out in Boston for the day-my athletic trainer here at school was even working the finish line.  While none were injured, my friends were all really shaken up- they heard the bombs explode, saw the bloody streets and the body parts that sprinkled the finish line, and had to figure out how to get out of the city with thousands of other race-goers.  The Green Line of the T shut down, so some of my friends walked miles back to Cambridge, where they were able to take a school shuttle back to campus.   Between the bad phone connection, down T system, injuries, and mass confusion, I sat on my couch and watched as my city, only a few miles from my campus, fell into chaos.

A week later, the two brothers responsible for the bombing have since been identified, the live one has been captured, and neither pose a threat to our country anymore, but I cannot seem to get away from this tragedy that happened in my own backyard.  I’ve been going into Boston since I was a kid- I remember walking around Faneuil Hall with my parents as a curious little girl, cruising Newbury Street for a friend’s birthday, and taking a Boston Harbor boat cruise with my graduating class senior year in high school; I’ve been ice skating on Frog Pond, seen shows at the Wang Theater on Tremont Street, and I even peed my pants as a kid on the Boston Duck tours.  I went to the Boston Symphony Orchestra on a field trip in fifth grade with my music class, sat under the stars in my Red Sox hat at a ball game at Fenway, and eaten a cannoli at Mike’s Pastries…how can this beautiful city that I’ve grown up with have been the target of a terrorist attack?  I have been saddened by all of the senseless tragedies that have occurred in the US over the years-from 9/11 to the recent Newtown shooting-but this one really hits home.  That was my city that was attacked—my familiar streets that were displayed on national television, my friends, teammates, and classmates that were in danger—that was my city that was the talk of the world.  I can’t even begin to understand what was going on in the minds of the two brothers who committed such atrocities, and my heart gets heavy with sorrow when I think about Martin, the 8-year-old boy who died in the explosion, or 26-year-old MIT police officer Sean Collier, who had only been working at the school’s police department for about a year when he was shot down by the duo.  My eyes still brim with tears when I think about all this senseless sadness, and it’s hard to wrap my head around the whole thing sometimes…but in all this grief, I was able to find a glimmer of something beautiful: gratitude.

I’m thankful for all of the extraordinarily brave police officers, secret service agents, FBI men and women, and other law enforcement officials who protected the American people so well.  I’m thankful for the leaders at my school—from the President of the university all the way down to my floor RA—all of whom did an incredible job keeping students safe and informed.  I’m thankful for the local citizens, who looked out for each other, obeyed orders, and were vigilant in the manhunt for suspect number two.  But I’m thankful for more than that: I’m thankful for my family and my friends, and for all of our good health; I’m thankful to be attending college at a university I love, and to be a part of a lacrosse team; I’m thankful for the sunshine, the flowers, and the possibilities that each new day brings; simply put, I am thankful to be alive. This tragedy reminds me how lucky we really are just to wake up each morning and to have the opportunity to learn, laugh, love, and make a difference in the world.  Marathon Monday is such a great day in Boston because it is a celebration of all that people can accomplish- it’s absolutely amazing that someone can train long and hard enough to be able to run over 26 miles!  People come together from all over the world on this one day to do something spectacular, or just to celebrate the accomplishments of others with friends and family in a wonderful city.  We cannot allow this bombing to crush our spirits and faith in each other, but instead let’s take a page from the Boston Marathon- let’s all do something amazing with our lives and be happy for the accomplishments of others!  Let’s use our talents to make a difference in the lives of our fellow men, to leave a positive impact on the world around us.  Let’s inspire others to be their best, too, and let’s enjoy every step of the way.

This appreciation for all the good things we have in life applies to you and your diabetes.  Don’t dwell on the negatives of diabetes, but be thankful for all the other organs that do work in your body!  Reflect on the advances in research and technology diabetes care has seen over the years, and be grateful for the people who have banded together in passion and love to cure diabetes!  Don’t stop there, either- use all the good things diabetes has taught you—like compassion, responsibility, patience, and perseverance—to do something remarkable for the world.  Just like the marathon runners have the strength and the power within themselves to accomplish an impressive feat, you, too, have the power to do something great for the world: let diabetes help you figure out just how you will do it.

Last year, a friend snapped a picture of me and my two friends in front of the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  We smiled for the camera as we stood in front of the many different flags that lined the sides of the course, with the VIP bleachers in the background.  Last Monday, I saw that same spot where we took our photo a year ago all over the news: it was where the first bomb exploded.  I am thankful for my life and all the people and things I’m blessed with.  My heart goes out to everyone hurt by the bombing, and I pray for strength and unity in our country in the days to come, but let this tragedy serve as a reminder to all of us.  Let us be thankful for everyone who acted courageously in the face of danger; for the good will and compassion we saw between complete strangers; and for all the beauty in life that is sometimes hidden by darkness.  I plan to live each and every day to the fullest, feeling thankful for my good fortune, enjoying the camaraderie of others, and leaving my mark on the world. Will you do the same?

Boston Marathon Finish Line in 2012

Written by: Christina Roth, CEO and Founder

Day 2 Bionic Pancreas Study: Reality check

“Tropical Vacation”

Ultimately, what being in this study represents is hope. Hope of less worry, less guilt, less work, and more “normalcy”. But what my second day in the study has reminded me is that although my bionic pancreas isn’t far from being widely available to everyone, this study is an integral part of getting the kinks out.

So, while being in this study and having this bionic pancreas is like a tropical holiday (see the fancy drinks we got?), I have definitely had a few reality checks today to help remind me why we are doing this, and that this is a research study, and not a final product. I have been involved in research in some way for a few years now, but this study just helps to drive home the importance of getting involved in studies like this. Not only because it’s a wicked cool experience, but because it is truly a way to help change all of our lives (because I am definitely not the genius who is actually creating this algorithm…).

So, today’s reality check (and my venting session…):

1) IV’s are horrible. Period. During the day, we check our blood sugar every 2 hours at minimum on a HemoCue (an archaic meter that looks like it’s from the 90s), but when nighttime rolls around, they hook you up to a GlucoScout, consisting of an IV machine that automatically tests your blood throughout the night to compare to the CGM readings. So no, this is not part of the bionic pancreas itself, it is more of a safety mechanism for the study, but despite the very talented nurses inserting the IVs….I AM NOT A FAN. (Jo started self-medicating with M&Ms during IV insertions…)

Getting the kinks out at the gym

2) Occlusion. I have come to hate that word today……..I was at the gym (a holy place that I very rarely get to anymore!) and so excited that my glucagon/insulin balancing super pancreas would keep my blood sugar level while I went to town on the elliptical, BUT NO the glucagon pump of course had an “occlusion”……so there we were, middle of the gym, changing the Glucagon pump so that I could get back to my workout. Worst of all, I actually had to have juice and treat my low…What’s with that…it’s like a normal day (not cool!). Jo on the other hand, had a great workout, with her super pancreas fully operational- which I am not-so-secretly very jealous of! Read about Jo’s workout.

So here I am, typing as I am waiting to have my IV inserted for the night, and my takeaway from the day? I can’t wait to get back to the gym tomorrow to give this glucagon pump a run for its money. Bring it on baby! 

Day 3 Bionic Pancreas Study: Getting into a rhythm

So the way that this algorithm works (at least from my limited understanding of it…), is that it “learns” who you are more and more each day. Comparing how you reacted to its boluses in past days, and adjusting how it reacts accordingly. So now that we are on Day 3, I am starting to see the results of this super-genius pancreas.

I was impressed when I had left over pizza, and what had pushed me into the 300s the previous night, ended up causing only a max blood sugar of around 220, when I had already started at around 190…..small miracle. I was shocked when I worked out for over an hour and had practically a straight line the entire time. But what topped it off, was almost minor. I saw that my Glucagon pump was giving me a bolus even though I was about 150 at the time….and I was a little concerned that it was just another kink that would send me too high. But less than an hour later, I was in the 90’s and steady- Amazing!

A flat line the whole time!

Every day we try to balance to the endless number of factors outside of our control which affect our blood sugars, but what has impressed me with my bionic pancreas is its ability to treat me in a way I personally question (based off of 9 years of knowledge of my body and my habits), and to actually prove me wrong.

Day 4: Boston Manhunt

Today, Friday, would have been Day 4 of the study, however at around 11pm Thursday night (as we were attempting to get IVs in) we found out that there had been a shooting at the MIT campus involving the Boston Marathon bombers, and that the suspects were on the run. The ensuing manhunt which has spread throughout Boston and our suburbs unfortunately led to the early conclusion of the study.

Jo and I were both disappointed to wake up and find out that we would not be able to complete the full week with our bionic pancreases- but the most important thing was for the study personnel to be home safe, and for us to stay safely at the hotel. The whole situation was bigger than all of us, and we just feel lucky that we had the 3 days that we did, and that this suspect is apprehended as soon as possible so that the rest of the city, and our law enforcement, stay safe.

From the beginning of this study, we have been balancing the all-consuming experiences of following the investigation here in Boston, and wearing an artificial pancreas. Both life changing, and both charged with very different and overwhelming emotions.

To read more about Christina’s first day in the study Click Here.

To read more about Jo’s first day in the study Click Here.

To read more about this amazing Bionic Pancreas Study Click Here.

Written by: Jo Treitman, Program Director

During the study, I went to the gym twice! I only had to take about 15g of juice following my first workout and didn’t have to stop at any point. Yesterday, I started with a BG in the range that I usually like to start with (slightly above 180). I went on the spinning bike, and did intervals. Just as I suspected, I started slowly dropping about 8 minutes in (like clockwork), and started dropping pretty fast about 15 minutes in. Sure enough, my trusty pancreas gave me some glucagon so I could get through the workout without eating twice as many calories than I had burned. Over the course of my workout, I received three separate boluses of glucagon, which kept me in range while I was at the gym. Unfortunately, on my walk back (the device is still trying to figure out exercise), I ended up dropping too low and I had to treat BUT I was also given glucagon post-workout and the 15g of juice worked out. It was the kind of low where you’re tempted to eat the fridge… it took a lot of willpower to remind myself that I had a nurse by my side, and a bionic pancreas that had just given me glucagon. Luckily, the temptation passed, and I got back in range!

Enjoying a spin with my bionic pancreas!

Blue means insulin, red means glucagon!

Written by: Jo Treitman, Program Director

Ok. So it’s here. My first day with a bionic pancreas. After two days of preparation and calibration, I’ve slept through the night after a dinner full of pizza, and woke up with a BG of 120. I went to sleep in the 300s, getting micro-doses of insulin following my meal (since my bionic pancreas is still getting used to my insulin needs especially when I eat really carby foods). BUT, over the course of the night, I leveled out with two micro-doses of glucagon. No tabs in the middle of the night, and here I am at 75 with no urgency to find food.

I wake up today quite overwhelmed and excited. As a Boston resident, I’ve been experiencing a  roller coaster of emotions over the last 48 hours. It was when I was first getting hooked up at  the hospital when I heard the news. It was because of my appointment to insert my sensor that I hopped on my bike at 2:20pm only a couple of blocks from the finish line. I consider myself incredibly lucky for a number of reasons.

I expect the next four days to be extremely emotional – after 9 years of carb counting and letting diabetes make my decisions for me, I suddenly get to decide what and when I want to eat. This device has the potential of changing our lives, and it’s due date isn’t 20 years down the road. I feel extremely privileged to be a part of this revolution in diabetes care and I can’t wait to continue to share this experience.

Read about Christina’s first day!

Written by: Christina Roth, CEO and Founder

When I first heard about this study, I thought it was just too good to be true. When I found out I was going to be in the study, I couldn’t quite believe it. Now that I am fully hooked up to my [temporary] new bionic pancreas I am filled with more emotions than I can describe….

On Monday, Jo and I went into Mass General Hospital to get our G4 sensors inserted, and for me to move into the hotel that we would be living in for the next 6 days over the  course of the study. But that excitement was soon changed to disbelief, as we started the appointment with the knowledge and fear that 2 bombs had just gone off down the road at the Boston Marathon. We all scrambled for our phones, texted our friends and families, checked facebook statuses, and tried to find out news about what was happening. Completing the rest of the appointment became secondary to what could have happened if we hadn’t been there, and worry that everyone we knew was safe. I spent the rest of the night watching, and re-watching the news, barely thinking of the next life changing event that was going to be getting underway the next day.

Once Tuesday afternoon rolled around, Jo and I were both starting to get excited about our “bionic vacation” that was about to start. We contained our selves throughout the prepping process, and when we finally hit the countdown to pressing the on button to the closed loop system, it finally truly hit me.

So now I am fully bionic  hooked up to an activity bracelet, insulin pump, a glucagon pump, a G4 sensor, miles of tubing, and all connected to an iPhone receiver. So even though I thought I would never post a picture of my stomach (sorry Anna!)………….it really is just too cool not to!!

Read about Jo’s first day!

Love Those Late-night Lows

Dani Petrunich, CDN Student Blogger

The last few nights, I’ve woken up low at around four in the morning.  Ok, “woken up low” is a bit of an understatement: I actually wake with a start, dripping with sweat and toasting from the inside out under my twisted sheets and blankets.  I don’t know what time it is, what’s going on around me, or when I have to be up in the morning for class, but instead there is one singular thought in my mind: get food.  I reach over the side of my lofted dormitory bed and grasp for a bottle in the 30 pack of Welch’s variety juice drinks I keep on the floor below my head, and I gulp it down in five swift chugs.  Then I generally throw back my covers to cool off and try to fall asleep again, but for the past few nights, I’ve been too low to go back to bed after just one juice.  Instead I lay on my stomach, flex my toes over the left side of the bed, and fold over the right side to reach for some snacks in a plastic container under the center of my bed.  I usually end up falling on my face when I try to reach over the bed this way, so sometimes I just sit on the floor and eat my snacks; usually, though, I jump back in bed and start devouring protein bars, fruit leathers, cereal, candy, and whatever else I can get my hands on until I feel better.  I do not stop eating until I regain a sense of where I am, what I’m doing, and recall the “eating healthy” plan that I have abandoned yet again in my single-minded quest for food.  At this point I brush all the crumbs and wrappers out of my sheets, readjust anything I knocked over, and pass out again as if nothing had happened.

Thankfully my college roommate this year is also diabetic and understands what’s happening when I’m opening plastic food wrappers and crunching on granola bars in the dead of the night.  My camp roommate a few summers back was not quite as knowledgeable about diabetes and what I need to do to treat a low: we both felt a little uncomfortable when she woke up to me sitting cross-legged on my sheets, zoning out on the wall above her bed at 2 am as I nibbled on some peanut butter crackers.  I explained to her in the morning that I needed to eat in the middle of the night to bring my blood sugar up, and I promised her that I do not normally eat midnight snacks in my bed every evening.  My freshman year roommate had to deal with similar situations, including hearing me stumble into things as I made my way to our minifridge at 3 am for a juice, and I’m sure she wondered why there were sometimes empty juice boxes and food wrappers littered around my floor for the first month or so of college…like I said, I’m glad my roommate now understands my unusual eating patterns.

As scary, sweaty, and strange as late-night lows can be, I’ve actually come to kind of appreciate them.  They’ve made for some good stories, and I even have some fond memories from them.  When I was little, I used to walk down the hall and crawl into my parents’ bed when I went low at night.  I know I felt miserable, dizzy, shaky, and all those other awful feelings that accompany a low blood sugar, but looking back now I smile a little at these moments.  My Mom would hug me in her arms as my Dad went downstairs to the kitchen to get me a glass of chocolate milk and “the best snack we have in the house!” as I used to request.  I’d wait to see what goodies he’d bring up from the pantry, and I loved to sit, curled up in their warm bed with a special midnight snack, as my parents comforted me until I felt better. These days, I don’t weasel into my parents’ bed every time I’m low at night, but over winter break, I made my way to the kitchen around midnight one evening only to find my Dad still awake doing some work.  We each fixed ourselves a glass of orange juice and a bowl of cereal, and all the sudden I felt like a little kid again, sharing a secret snack and some laughs with my Dad while the rest of the house slept.

So what do you think about late-night lows? Do you have any funny stories, or fond memories, of a middle-of-the-night low? Sometimes I start to dream about chasing donuts or finding a pot of honey when I go low in my sleep… ever happened to you?  Do you have a favorite midnight snack, or a buddy to share it with?  You obviously want to adjust your insulin to prevent as many lows as possible, but instead of being grumpy when you wake up sweaty and low once again, try to enjoy your next late-night low with a tasty treat, a snack buddy, or both!

Top 20 Biggest #Diabetic(Girl)Problems

Dani Petrunich, CDN Student Blogger

As I’ve previously mentioned, I am the creator of the Twitter account Diabetic Girl Problems.  Nearly a year ago today, I created the account and began tweeting about life as a young college girl- the struggles, the jokes, and some daily inspiration.  As I began to tweet my 2 cents to the world, it was exhilarating to get a favorite or a retweet on Twitter, and I was always especially pumped to get a new follower.  I was so pleased that others out there related to what I was saying, and I suddenly found a whole new community of diabetics that I wouldn’t have ever known about without this awesome form of social media.  I had a new network, and I loved it.

800 tweets and 1100-plus followers later, I still get equally excited when I gain a new follower or hear back from another diabetic who reads my tweets.  I love to see their responses to my 140 character comments, or read their own tweets about their experiences with #DiabeticGirlProblems.  Of all the tweets I receive, though, I definitely have a favorite type.  One girl tweeted “It’s pretty much spot on how much I can relate to @DiabeticGirls,” and another said “I have #DiabeticGirlProblems (;”.  A few days ago, someone tweeted “I like reading all the diabetes tweets…I don’t feel so alone anymore.”  That is why I kept Diabetic Girl Problems going after those first few weeks.  That is why I like getting followers and favorites and retweets.  That is what makes the whole endeavor worth it: hearing from other diabetics from all over the globe that they can relate to what I go through on my own every single day.

So, in celebration of Diabetic Girl Problems’ One Year Anniversary and my awesome, awesome followers, this blog counts down the Top 20 Biggest #Diabetic(Girl)Problems that I haven’t only tweeted about, but that affect diabetics everywhere, each and every day.  Stay strong, ladies and gents- laugh at funny moments, try to avoid the bad ones, and remember that someone else can always share in your diabetic problems!

Top 20 Biggest #Diabetic(Girl)Problems, as tweeted about by @DiabeticGirls

20. The number of times my tubing gets snagged around a doorknob, handle, or another

protruding object is a little unreal.

19. I always seem to feel low the second I finish brushing my teeth… figures…

18. My pump often tends to beep during moments of silence, as soon as I step into the shower,

or at any other time when it’s rather inconvenient.

17. Trying to think and form coherent sentences when low is pretty much impossible.

16. Once someone asked me to smoke a joint with him because he heard me talk about

“being high all day long”… I have diabetic girl problems, not pothead problems.

15.  I can probably chug a juice box faster than a frat brother can chug beer…it’s a learned skill.

14.  I’m always surprised when people ask me, “Wait, you have diabetes? Were you really fat

before I met you?” I wonder if they’re aware that that’s a rude thing to ask someone…

13.  Someone please explain to me why my finger bleeds in three places when I poke it in one…

12.  If I were ever to be kidnapped, I think the police would be able to find me pretty quickly

from the trail of test strips I seem to leave wherever I go…

11.  I’m sure I looked really attractive on my date today when I stuffed my face to treat a

low…NOT.

10.  Caution: Grumpy When High. Stay back at least 100 feet. Do not look directly in eyes.

9.  Wow, I just love traveling through airport security as a diabetic! #saidnooneever

8.  There is nothing worse than shoving more food down your throat when you’re already

full… #low

7.  Went to the gym, kicked butt on the treadmill, and ate back all the calories I burned 20

minutes later from my post-exercise low… really effective workout…

6.  A juice box exploded in my bag…again… #sticky

5.  Where am I going to hide my pump in this dress???

4.  Yes, I do have a box of juices in the trunk of my car, and a bottle of sharps under my bed…

3.  People confuse my pump for a beeper and me for a dork… it’s 2013, people!!

2.  Ate breakfast at nine, remembered to bolus at 11…oops…

1.  And the biggest #Diabetic(Girl)Problem is… bumps, bruises, and scar tissue from injections;

though shocking, I’m actually not a pin cushion!

Dani Petrunich, CDN Student Blogger

I’m currently sitting in the airport with my lacrosse team, waiting to board our flight to Florida for Spring Break (woohoo!).  We’ll be away for five full days: we’re opening our season with two big games, practicing, and getting some sun. We’ve been looking forward to this trip for weeks- when we got back to school after winter break in January, we entered pre-season, the most intense time of the year.  We’ve been practicing, lifting, conditioning, doing pool workouts, watching film, and even shoveling snow off of our turf field for two months straight…gotta love that New England weather…so as you can imagine, we’re itching to start playing some games and soak up some rays in Florida!

I started packing two nights ago, and let me tell you, I had a hard time fitting all of my clothes, toiletries, swimsuits, and lax gear into one bag and a carry-on!  Plus, on top of my turfs, uniform, goggles, mouthguard, and the head of my disassembled stick, I had to fit my giant black bag of diabetes supplies into my backpack…I must’ve shifted things around about ten times in my carry-on until I got them all to fit.  Then, once I finally had all my belongings perfectly packed, I suffered periodic panic attacks that I had forgotten something essential-particularly my diabetes supplies.  Sunscreen and toothpaste are pretty easy to pick up at a gift shop should I forget them; Glucagon is not.

Regardless, I made it to the airport with whatever I have in the bags at my feet.  I like to think I’m a pretty efficient flyer at this point- I’ve done my fair share of traveling with my family, and I know the tricks to getting through security as quickly as possible. Even with these strategies, though, traveling as a diabetic can still be challenging.  Thankfully today was smooth sailing through airport security, but as many of you know, that is not always the case.

Traveling through security as a diabetic can be a bit of a nightmare. It’s slow, annoying, and sometimes even awkward- I don’t like being asked to step aside for an uncomfortable pat-down for having an insulin pump on my hip, or the sideways glances that ensue from fellow travelers.  I don’t enjoy the bag check that messes up all of my strategically-packed items, or seeing my personal belongings strewn all over that cold metal examination table. And I especially don’t appreciate the attitude I get from some TSA employees. I’ve been heckled and hassled over my healthcare supplies- one security man even had the nerve to say “I really don’t think you need to carry juice with you on an airplane…it’s just not necessary.” I was reduced to tears at an airport in Germany, and I almost always leave the security checkpoint in a fluster- cheeks red, eyes down, and very, very irritated.

I fully understand that there is a need for increased airport security today, and I appreciate the hard work and concern of TSA security men and women all over the map…but that doesn’t change the fact that traveling through security can be a pain. Thankfully, I’ve improved my airport travel to an art today, and I have some tips to help move you through security as swiftly as possible.  First, have your insulin and other liquids ready to go in a Ziploc bag at the top of your purse- this way they’re easily accessible and you’re prepared to pull out your quart-sized bag when you reach the conveyor belt.  Also have a doctor’s note at the ready should anyone start giving you a hard time.  Just to avoid unnecessary conflict, don’t even bother adding juice to your plastic baggie- you never know how people are going to respond.  Instead I carry one juice bottle in my bag, toss it in the trash before security, and buy a new one after I pass through the checkpoint. I also use Starbursts and other sweets to treat my lows when I travel (one of the few upsides of going to the airport!). And mentally, just be fully prepared for what may await you at security, and be as helpful and patient as possible.

Point is, don’t let airport security phase you!  It’s challenging for everyone- diabetics especially- but it’s a necessary part of airtravel today, so just follow these tips to make security as pain-free as possible for everyone involved and  continue on your merry way to wherever your plane is taking you!  Good luck and happy travels!

A Birthday Card

Dani Petrunich, CDN Student Blogger

My Mom remembers more about my diagnosis than I do. I was only three when I was diagnosed with Type I diabetes, so I guess that’s to be expected, but she’s told me about it so many times that it feels like some of her memories have become my own. I don’t actually remember walking into the hospital after dance class in my tights, leotard, and tutu. I don’t remember my intense thirst, or constantly needing to pee, during the weeks before our visit. I don’t remember crying every time a nurse came to check my blood sugar, or eating special meals for my health. I don’t remember the doctor bearing the news, and I certainly don’t remember the emotions that came with it. But my Mom does.

Ever since that day in a small Illinois hospital room, my Mom has committed herself to helping me manage my diabetes. She mentioned once how she and my Dad stayed up for hours after my diagnosis reading books about diabetes, talking to doctors, and soaking up as much knowledge as they could about this foreign disease. As I grew, she began to teach me how to take care of myself. And she always made sure others knew how to take care of me. She used to meet with nurses and teachers before school each year to explain the basics of diabetes. She also came into my classroom and read a children’s book about a boy with diabetes to me and my fellow kindergarteners- “so everyone would know a little more about you,” she said.

As I grew up, I became more and more self-sufficient, but my Mom never stopped helping me any way she could. She used to pack my lunch every morning before school with a notecard that listed the food and carbs of everything in my lunch box. She still, to this day, asks how my blood sugars are running when I talk to her on the phone, and she is the first person I call when I need some serious advice about my numbers. She still orders my supplies, drives me to my endo appointments, and stays up-to-date on all the latest advances in research and technology: she taught me how to take care of myself, but she has never once abandoned me in my health care.

Not only does my Mom do everything within her power to assist me in my daily diabetes management, but she also dedicates herself to the greater diabetes community. For fifteen years, my Mom served as Team Captain for our town’s JDRF Walk team. She worked hard each fall, writing and mailing around 300 Walk letters, calling local businesses, raising money, planning for the actual walk day…and she did it all with a smile on her face. Thanks to her efforts, our team has risen well over $300,000 to date, and the team has been recognized by JDRF for its impressive fundraising achievements. I remember asking my Mom once why she registered me as a Walk Team Captain along with herself- “I don’t do anything!” I said. My Mom smiled and replied, “Sure you do- you’re the one that lives with diabetes each day!”

My Mom also volunteered at the local JDRF office, organized and attended diabetes fund raisers, galas, and events, and she even brought me along when she met with Congressman McGovern one afternoon to discuss diabetes-related legislation in our state. I’m so thankful for and touched by all the public work she has done in my honor, but some of my most treasured diabetes memories with my Mom don’t even come from her volunteer hours. I can remember crawling into my parents’ bed at 2 am with a low blood sugar when I was still little- my Dad would hurry downstairs to find the tastiest low snacks we had in the house while my Mom would hug me and make me feel better till my Dad returned with the food. Sometimes she’d come to tuck me in at night and I’d sob to her, asking “Why me???” She’s the only one I’ve ever broken down to when I get frustrated with my situation, and like all things I come to my Mom with, she always knows just what to say to make me feel better. She would give me the advice and strength I needed to wipe the tears away from my eyes and hold my head high. My Mom is the reason why I’m strong in the face of adversity, why I can turn a bad situation into something good: she taught me how to do that from the day I was diagnosed with diabetes.

My Mom is celebrating her birthday this Friday, so I want to dedicate this piece to her. I’m not writing this article because it’s her birthday week- I’m writing it because my Mom deserves to be told how absolutely incredible she is and how much I love and appreciate her- her birthday just reminded me that it’s been far too long since I’ve said all this. So, Mom, thank you for everything you do for me. Thank you for loving me and the rest of our family, and thank you for sacrificing so much of yourself to help the ones you love. Thank you for always being there- to listen to me, to advise me, to love me, and to laugh with me. Thank you for being the greatest mother a girl could ever ask for- especially a diabetic girl.

I’m sure that those of you reading this are thinking of your own mothers, or fathers, or whoever it may be that takes care of you best and loves you more than anything. Don’t wait till their birthday to tell them how much you appreciate them- give them a call, or a hug if you’re nearby, and be thankful for all the wonderful people in your life.