Life with T1D: Game Changer

Just my luck. I sit down to write and the room starts to spin.

I may have eaten my weight, or at the very least a newborn’s weight, in Orville Redenbacher’s Caramel and White Cheddar popcorn. Wondering now if that’s behind the sudden tilt in my balance.

My daughter and I had our first session of insulin pump training at the hospital today. It was a lot to take in. The dietitian who helped us work on some advanced carb counting told K. that today she has been reborn. (I thought perhaps she meant that K. got a new lease on life. Six and two threes?)

We have accounts to create and supplies to order. Neither of us wants to mess this up. I’d better remind K. to set alarms on her phone for finger pokes overnight. (No, wait. That’s next week.)

I had been thinking about doing an UberEats shift. Maybe not the best idea for today.

Game changer.

That’s what people in the T1D groups are saying.

K. and I are more than a little freaked out, all the same.

Soon this will no longer be her reality.

Happy Gotcha Day, Loki!

A year ago today, friends needed to rehome a black cat who had adopted them by virtue of showing up on their back step and persisting in being allowed inside their apartment.

I’m a sucker for panther babies. My daughter promptly claimed naming rights. Thus Loki, aka Lolobirdy and The Lokinator, came to live with us.

He’s an easygoing fellow, unless his water bowl is empty or he can see the bottom of the kibble dish. He is expert at weaving an infinity loop around human legs. We have no idea how old he actually is, but age ain’t nothing but a number. He has been a source of comfort to me ever since Jeeber Cat died last October. Even Coco has – in true tortie style – made peace with Loki.

Enjoy your day, Lolobirdy. I’ll give you a chin massage and belly rub later, when I see you.

All photo credit goes to Keely Martin, Loki’s favourite human.