But it’s not obligatory. It’s DiGiorno!
I hate resolution posts. Flipping the big paper calendar page to January doesn’t mean I’ll have all my shit figured out. (Neither does the brand new planner that I bought that is so much like the one I bought last year and stopped using in February but what if this is the one? What the eff if?)
And yet I’m feeling resolution-adjacent.
It’s the result of coming off a seven week solo-parenting stint (yay Chris for Project TBA!!) and then diving headlong into holiday circus-mode and then we were away the week after Christmas. Mash that wormhole timeframe with upcoming rotator cuff surgery scheduled for this month (the MRI said it is so) and the assumed long recovery time and this whole run-on sentence serves to acknowledge how many thought potatoes are roaming around unsupervised in my brain.
So, despite low-key loathing resolutions, I’m making some … adjustments.
Reacquaint with diabetes basics. Before we left for vacation, my Dexcom G6 app gave me the “transmitter battery low” alert, letting me know I had two weeks left before my CGM transmitter would die. No worries — I already had a new transmitter at the ready and we’d be back well before the transmitter was scheduled to give up. In packing for the trip, I brought two spare CGM sensors. I felt (stupidly pat myself on the back) prepared. Until the transmitter died at the 90 day mark instead of two weeks later. When I called Dexcom to see if the transmitter was truly borked, the customer service rep said (paraphrase), “Oh, your transmitter was started on October 1, so it is at the 90 day mark. Sometimes it gives you a few extra days, though, so try a new sensor.”
Sometimes? Apparently my CGM runs on precision technology and also vibes?
A new sensor didn’t work. Which meant I had to run the last two and a half days of travel without a CGM. And I only had seven test strips in my “hey, bring it as a back up but you won’t need it ha ha ha” meter case. And it was New Year’s Eve. Thankfully, I was able to buy the most generic, made-out-of-LEGO meter in the pharmacy just before they closed ($48 for meter and strips – a bargain!), and I pricked my finger every few hours until I was reunited with my supply chain at home.
This is why I need to brush up on the basics. I’ve been reliant on CGM and pump technology in some capacity since 2006, so when the tech goes wonky, I freeze. I had to remind myself how to use a finger stick meter. I set an alarm for 2 am checks (even if I was only checking to soothe my anxiety). My fingers remembered how much they hated repeat lancing. I bought LANCETS, you guys. A whole box! I’m now set for life. But it was useful to remember how to drive this part of my diabetes manually, because as awesome as the tech is, diabetes still gonna diabetes. And when it goes sideways, I have to be nimble.
A second adjustment is to familiarize my family with diabetes basics. When my rotator cuff is repaired later this month, I’ll be borderline useless in one of my arm departments for a week or two, and I may need help with things I consider second nature but are not for my team. Like filling a pump cartridge. And installing a new infusion set. And taking a peek at the battery life and CGM number on my phone (in case I’m a little space shot for a few days post-op). While my independence as a PWD (person with diabetes) is top notch important to me, it would be smart to give my team a crash course on diabetes basics during the window where I’ll need a hand. And a rotator cuff.
A third resolutionary thing? Finish a draft of my second novel. My first novel went out to agents but didn’t earn any offers of representation, so instead of feeling bad about it, I’m taking a crack at a second book to see if I can apply what I’ve learned from writing the first one. It’s coming along, thanks in large part to a small, inspiring team of local writers who gather to disassociate and write. I’ve said I’m grateful for them in the past. I’ll keep saying it. They are equal parts inspiring and talented. So I’ll finish this draft and edit it and cross my fingers and query.
Fourthish? I firmly resolve to stop the Hamster Wheel of Dumb Tasks. 2026 will be the year of dishes left in the sink and laundry staying tumbled in the dryer because I do not care anymore. Let it be messy. I’d rather do other shit. I will make more time for friends, for my home team, for work I enjoy, for being outside, for finally feeling strong after a year of shoulder pain, for long walks and funny podcasts, for reading books, for baking all the goodies they make on the Great British Baking Show, for putting together a local writing retreat, for using my library card more, for being a human who rests even if everything isn’t done.
And fifthtown, I will think outside the bun (aside from that one reference to Taco Bell). My attention is splintered by dumb stuff on screens; I can’t take that shit anymore. I killed my Facebook account, and my LinkedIn profile. I want to put my time and attention towards places and communities that do something good for my guts, you know? I’ve been doing a lot of reading here on Substack. I also read The Last Unicorn while I was on vacation (did you know it was a book before it was the movie? I did not.)
I am excited to find more words to love.
I want my brain to be different this year.
Here’s a list of places and spaces and moments I think about often, and will revisit this year. Several are Rhode Island-centric, so if you’re not interested in supporting the best little state in the country, you can find your own local stand-ins:
- You can donate to Crossroads, located in Providence, RI.
- Or the Rhode Island Community Food Bank.
- Or to Friends Way, which is Rhode Island’s only children’s bereavement center.
- Or Camp Surefire, a diabetes camp located in southern Rhode Island.
- Write the song that’s been in your head.
- Or write to your local representative and tell them to DO SOMETHING.
- Put googly eyes on everything.
- Or donate to the Krista Martin Band Geek Scholarship for Westerly High School.
- Write daily. There’s no link for this bullet point. You just have to do it. Even if you don’t think of yourself as a writer, jot something down every day. On a notepad. On an index card. In a blog post. On a banana peel. Whatever. Just write.
- Watch TARS (and CASE) run. It’s always good.
- You can subscribe to Letters from an American.
- Or support Reach Out and Read Rhode Island.
- You can totally make a thousand crocheted chickens.
- Or make a donation the Rhode Island Free Clinic
- Or to Insulin for Life.
Just do something. Do ANYTHING that makes you feel something. Blink so hard you see the distorted shadow shapes under your eyelids. Shake the dust off your originality and write the cringiest shit you could ever imagine and not fear what happens next but instead open your arms out as wide as you can and YAWP.
