I signed up for an art class because I wanted to live deliberately. Read that in your best Neil Perry from Dead Poet’s Society voice. (Pretend we’re standing in a cave as the water drips down onto our boarding school heads.) I signed up for an art class because I wanted to…
I’m six weeks out from shoulder surgery and I’ve graduated from passive range of motion (PROM) to active range of motion (AROM). PROM was effective but frustrating as it seems to be designed to keep my bicep attachment from ripping (BARF), so I had to keep it pretty darn stationary for…
said with a Sean Connery accent Eleven days ago, I had surgery on my shoulder to repair the rotator cuff. I was reluctant to send the query through ye olde Google before the surgery because then I would get completely grossed out and not want to go forward with it,…
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…
There are some mistakes I’ve finally learned to avoid after all this time with type 1 diabetes. Like assuming that the soda served is diet. I can say “diet,” the server can nod and confirm “diet,” but sometimes the soda arrives all bubbly and lovely and tasting off enough so…
THANKFUL! I am it.
“This device does not support your musical choices, or your life choices; therefore this hardware cannot connect to this device” was the error message on my car’s screen. Maybe not exactly that wording, but close enough. And it happened a few times sporadically until it started happening every time I…
Every few weeks, I get a letter from my endocrinologist’s office stating that my appointment has been cancelled and needs to be rescheduled. The last time I saw my endo was January 2025. It was supposed to be April, then rescheduled to July, then September, then January of next year,…
The wheeze-slosh-wheeze-slosh of modern medicine When I first walked in, the machine was making these wet, washing machine sounds, the wheeze-slosh-wheeze-slosh sounds of modern medicine. “Whoa. It sounds like a breast pump,” I said, pulling the hospital gown away from my arm, where the infusion set for my insulin pump was still…
“Mom. She’s got a Dexcom,” my big kid said, tilting her head in the direction of two women in beach chairs to our left. “The one with the white hat on.” And sure enough, the older woman with the white hat and big, teardrop pearl earrings in her ears was…
