Just One More

I've shared a rough of the the introduction to Dear Warriors. Now, I'd like to share a possible ending. Please leave comments if you have a response, suggestion or question! Deadline for art submissions is July 31! I'd love to see your work!

Artist: Abby, 28	Age at diagnosis: 22
Title: “I traveled across the country by myself for a week. That was pretty scary as I didn’t have my husband with me as a safety net. But my passion is travel and I did it!.”

“But when you do things like this, you should always aim to beat others by doing one more. It’s important to have that mindset.”

- South Korean Olympic speed skating gold medal winner, Lee Seung-Hoon, on SBS’s Master in the House

I’ve covered hockey twice, now I’m moving on to speed skating. I was shocked by the shape of Lee Seung-Hoon’s feet when he showed them to the hosts on this show. Years of workouts had caused his body to protect itself in a spectacular fashion. He explained how he had pushed himself from elementary school age, resulting in the callouses and him experiencing such exhaustion, he truly felt he couldn’t take another step. However, he practiced a mindset of “just one more”, and that led him to eventually winning gold.

Pushing ourselves. Just one more. We Diabetic Warriors know of this.

I was struck as much with Abby’s life story on her photography blog, photograbetic.wordpress.com, and the background she gave me on this shot, as I was the atmosphere she created in this photo. Her composition is a serene and soft one of San Francisco. Our view is clouded by both fog and subject. Abby is standing tall, looking outward at a half-seen expanse, and our focus is drawn to her, realizing that she is flying off to amazing places like the tattoo that adorns her body. She’s pushing her boundaries and exploring the world, using her body, passions, grit, family support and the tools of a Diabetic Warrior. Is everything picture-perfect and well defined for her? No. But all of it make up who Abby really is. This is the body, mind, spirit and tools acting as one.

We are behind Abby. We are also Abby ourselves- in our own ways. There’s a laundry list of dreams we Diabetic Warriors have and chasms we must cross. It’s a long race. We, like the speed skaters, go around and around and around, over and over again. It can be mayhem. However, we also have quiet moments, like this one captured by Abby, where we can contemplate our journey- our race- past, present and future.

I believe I’ve covered quite a few of these struggles within these pages. I hope I’ve also highlighted some goodness, skills, and light that we, as Diabetic Warriors, can share and practice with fellow Warriors of all types. Abby looks alone. She is not. Fellow Warriors stand tall with her.

How do I know this? I live this truth. I had a ton of help in getting this book finished, for which I want to express my gratitude. First, to all the artists and their families. You have come to me when I’ve needed you and in amazing ways. Next, to early readers and editors, including my neighbors and friends, Marlene Oswald (the keystone to Dear Teachers), Amy Manns and Dr. Kathy Phelan. Special thanks to Audrey Farley, Editor of InsulinNation, to the folks at BeyondType1 and the members of the Facebook group, The Diabetic Journey. When I reached out for ideas to improve this book’s message, you all went out of your way to offer advice and assistance.

I thank you for reading. I thank you for expressing yourself on these pages. I thank everyone who has challenged my perspective and understandings. I thank everyone who has distracted me from my pains and put a smile on my face by telling me their own stories. I thank everyone who has shown me that I’m not alone. I hope we can keep the sharing going on my blog, other social media and in person.

Writing this book has not cleared away my inner demons, but it has given me some clarity and patience. In myself and in others. It’s revealed some truths I hadn’t faced but needed to sit with and which I must still work with. Over time.

That’s the key. With time, almost anything is possible. Time gives us opportunity. To try.

Just one more.

Dear Warriors is Gaining Purpose and Wholeness!

Owen, the Writing Muse

Over the last month, essays have been edited, added and dropped. More art has come in, bringing renewed excitement, potential, and the need to consider these new messages, knitting them into a purposeful whole with my words.

That's the coolest thing I'm feeling right now: purpose and a sense of wholeness. 
I confess that those feelings have been in short supply of late. The "Funk" that I wrote of in one essay in Dear Warriors has taken hold of me. I struggle to believe if you or anyone else relates, but deep inside, I know there are those who do. I've seen it. Read it. Heard it. Felt it.

We need to feel like we're not alone. That we all have purpose. And we are all whole, even if battered.

With Dear Warriors, I'm seeking to connect us with T1D (Diabetic Warriors) to our own selves and to all people (Warriors). I also seek to show how all people themselves relate to, and need, us with T1D.  They do!! To those who are helping me with art, personal insights, encouragement and simple presence: you and your skills are part of the resources that this Warrior needs to get through this particular battle she's fighting. You are my fellow Warriors. Dearly appreciated.

Warriors need each other.

I received a drawing today that marks the second to last slot I need to fill in the book. It fits perfectly in one of those empty holes. The essay directly connected to it, "Feeding the Soul", doesn't even need editing to reflect what this young artist presented- it's that close. But, I will add some connecting thoughts because we are now just that: truly connected. We're sharing our selves. That's the surge that keeps me going and breaks The Funk's power. That's what tells me I'm either onto something huge, or I'm simply tapping into universal truths out there and should just hold on for the ride. Either is good enough for me. I must stay out on the field as that Diabetic Warrior to the end of this mission.

Speaking of completing this mission, if you or someone you know would like to submit art- there's still time! Deadline is July 31, 2018. More information can be found in my introductory blog post, Type 1 Art Requested!.

I'm looking forward to the time in the future where I'll have a few advance copies of Dear Warriors for review. If you'd like to be included in that run (all contributing artists will get an electronic copy for their review prior to final publication, so no need to ask for this) please email me at dearwarriors2018@gmail.com with the subject heading "Advance Copy Review" with your address and contact information. 

Better Teammates

Artist: Brendan Eskridge, 10	Age at diagnosis: 9
Title: T1D Hockey “This is about me wanting to get into the NHL but when T1D hit me, it was like I was getting cross checked. Max Domi inspires me to achieve my NHL goal.”

The following is an excerpt from my upcoming book, Dear Warriors, set for release November 2018. I need your help to make this come true! If you or someone you know has T1D and has some art that could help illustrate this book, please contact me at dearwarriors2018@gmail.com. More info can be found here.  Remember: we're all Warriors- just some of us are specialized Diabetic Warriors. 

Thank you!

Better Teammates

I wrote this book through the lens of an adult Diabetic Warrior (DW) relying on other adult Warriors, Diabetic or not. Through this writing process, and exploring the lives and art of young T1D artists, I was reminded that young DWs rely on their fellow Warriors, too.

I received the above image from a mom whose son was diagnosed with T1D after suffering the teasing of hockey teammates for his excessive water drinking and bathroom breaks. Teasing that switched to support as his reality became clear. Now, the ribbing has become encouragement. The whole team is learning lessons on how to live together and on how to collaborate.

We think that children should not be Warriors, period. We think they should be able to grow and explore unfettered by real pain and hardship. We want their struggles, if any, to be manageable and controlled.

Sometimes, our fears get the best of us. Images form of our babies stumbling through a hostile forest, lost and alone. It terrifies us. While we struggle with these worries, we must remember neither we nor our kids are alone in the woods.

Let's remember what the enemy really is. It's not people. It's things. It's our choices.

We don’t want our children to face struggle, but they do. Along with beauty, life is filled with struggle: walking, learning, growing up and old. Some kids jump from Warrior to Diabetic Warrior within months or even days of their very first breaths. If we go back to our Warrior and forest metaphors, we shouldn’t be surprised that reality is rough for our kids. There’s no magic net protecting the tender sapling in the forest until it reaches a certain size. There’s no safety lock for Warriors in the field that will ensure they get through the barrages that life shoots out, unscathed. There are no guarantees.

But we do have each other.

This boy’s teammates became better teammates because of his diabetes. We can become better teammates to each other- better Warriors to each other- by acknowledging and understanding one another’s strengths and weaknesses. By working together, whether we want to or not. By never taking each other for granted. By commending each other in our successes and lifting each other up in our failures.

How can I be a better teammate? Do I have enough teammates? Do I rely on them as I should?

Patterns

The crazy ups and downs of this spring’s weather have me thinking about patterns. Seasons come and go in a regular sequence. We humans act in fairly repetitive ways, too- especially us with T1D. So, of course I talk about patterns in Dear Warriors. There are some benefits to them. But we need to stop ourselves upon occasion, and ask ourselves if it's time for us to change things up.

Case in point: Is our foot-focus outdated?

People with diabetes know that a foot exam is part of the the checkup process. I was talking with a friend, who is also a doctor, about this recently, after she very graciously agreed to read through my current Dear Warriors manuscript. We discussed the parts of an annual exam and that lead me to this interesting article, How to do a 3-minute diabetic foot exam. I was curious, because my own experience with them, as with my overall 20+ year experience with this condition, has been a range of both scope and detail.

Foot exams are part of the diabetes codex, but why? Do you ever wonder if perhaps we should focus on something else? Or simply remodel what we do, like this article suggests, (supported with data) to get the most bang-for-our-buck? There is much that needs to be changed in our healthcare in the US. Assembly line meetings that last under 15 minutes do not lend themselves to in-depth relationships, for starters. The mad rush seems to skip over things that we know are really important. Instead of lots of time on our feet, how about some serious time on our mental health and how we feel, which affects how we operate? Which leads me to my next point.

We can do more together. This article specifies “patient education” for one of the three minutes involved in their suggested foot exam protocol. As it states, “Even with proper patient education, many patients may be in various stages of coping with this all-consuming, yet frequently asymptomatic condition, which makes the need for repeated patient education even more critical.” Patient education? Let’s think in terms of patient participation, self-advocacy and agency. The psychological element of not simply being a body to be examined is key. Looking at our whole beings and how we relate to others are huge parts of the message behind Dear Warriors. Swinging this whole conversation further into collaboration would be helpful, as I’ll bring up in my next question.

Why aren’t blood sugar tests done once a year on everyone? Perhaps it’s was never considered before, due to relative rates of cases and equipment costs. But what were once logical practices may not make sense today. Testing today is fast and inexpensive. There are still regular occurrences of people with elevated blood sugars going long periods of time with complaints that end up being rooted in glucose levels. Relative rates of this condition are on the rise. In addition, even if results are fine, this test could be used as a positive segue to discussing dietary and exercise practices, which are extremely important health subjects for everyone. The alienation those with diabetes regularly feel might be relieved a bit if everyone dealt with this testing in their own lives.

These were just some thoughts I’ve had recently while working on Dear Warriors. I wish you well, and if you have, or no anyone else who has, any images you’d like to share, please spread the word and email me at dearwarriors2018@gmail.com. More info on my blog entry here.

3 Steps to Bloom

Back in March 2017, I wrote an essay on my blog, Verbostratis, called Finding Ourselves. In it, I wrote that I feel there are 3 keys to becoming our true selves:

1. Figure out where we started
2. Receive some opportunities to face fears, challenge ourselves and try new things
3. Accept who we are and who we’re becoming

The photo I took this morning reminded me of this evolution. Ideally, over our lives, we emerge out of a frozen, older world into a newer, fresh beauty that is our own. What that “self” is, how long it takes, and what it ends up being are unknown at the start.

Now that I’m editing my guided journal for those with T1Ds, Dear Warriors, and speaking with more people with type 1 diabetes, these steps feel more poignant. I felt the need to review them in light of diabetes and this new book. As I’ve begun introducing the premise of Dear Warriors to others and asking for help by collaborating with me in its creation, I’ve heard similar ideas from others who have been dealing with this condition for a while. They speak of learning patience, persistence, acceptance and empathy. There’s a combination of internal and external things we need.

1. Figure out where we started

Family stories and traditions came out as I sketched out Dear Warriors. As I mulled ideas over, it became evident to me that each person alive today is fighting something. We’re all warriors, so my writing evolved to include that. Who were/are our teachers? What tendencies did we have at birth? How have we been trained to behave?

2. Receive some opportunities to face fears, challenge ourselves and try new things

Diabetes is scary. I wrote of changing technologies, exercise routines, family dynamics and schedules that can advance us. I’ve added stories of gifts from fellow T1Ds and medical professionals that move us forward or brighten our days. I’ve also written of ignorance and indifference that have harmed along the way. Of ridiculous stumbling blocks. T1D demands connections with others. In truth, I’ve discovered that all humanity benefits from those same connections- and suffers alongside us if they are too few or too erroneous.

3. Accept who we are and who we’re becoming

I’ve shared instances in Dear Warriors that have been uniquely my style, even if they may seem strange to others. I’ve confessed where I fall short medically and in my own eyes. I describe where I feel I’ve grown since the beginning and what I’m still working on. The very act of writing this book is evidence, in my opinion, that I’m willing to reveal secrets to both myself and others. That’s a huge leap for me. It’s definitely felt painfully honest at times, and humbling at others.

The journey is not over yet. I’m still looking forward to seeing this book populated with more images from other Diabetic Warriors that will help fill in the stories. (Please email me your art for review at dearwarriors2018@gmail.com!) I’m also anticipating after publication: seeing how other T1Ds absorb my essays and others’ art, how they respond to them, and how they turn this work into an even more collaborative effort by adding their own lives and thoughts through the journalling spaces I’m providing.

The sketch I’ve including here was in my original essay in 2017. It’s a drawing I did of the crow-tit, a bird that is the basis of a Korean adage that reminds us to be ourselves and to not try to copy someone else. Being our genuine selves. That’s the greatest gift we can have, and the greatest gift we can share with others.