So I finally started pushing 200, a barrier that I never in a million years imagined myself getting close to, and decided that I needed a change. But it wasn’t until my sister started logging her calories that I decided “Okay, time to do this.” And thus it began.

For the last month I’ve been recording every calorie that I’ve taken in. I’ve vastly cut down on the amount of meat that I eat, which was actually been totally okay. I have found some excellent recipes using lentils and beans and veggies that are seriously just as good as most meat dishes that I’ve had. Curried lentils are the best. I bring my lunch to work, and try to keep it low calorie so that Kelly and I can still have a reasonably nice dinner together. And in a little bit of opposite logic, I’ve added breakfast to my routine. Now I start every day off with Cheerios, and it really helps, actually.

In addition to the food cutbacks, I’ve started exercising, which actually started a little bit before the diet. While I skate, that is only 2 times a week, and especially because of my failed pancreas, I need to make sure the rest of my body, especially my heart, is in good working condition. So I busted out my bicycle, which was my 16th birthday present, and I go out first thing in the morning M-W-F and ride around Forest Park. That part is probably my favorite. It is a good way to start the day, I’m really enjoying biking, and you get to see lots of stuff, so it is way better than an exercise bike. Sometimes you get rained on, though. That’s not so fun.

I’m doing a pretty good job of losing weight, and more importantly, I feel a lot better. There have been some downs, though. At first my body was not used to the change of sugars intake and I had to get my blood sugar issues figured out. But a little bit of tweaking, and that has been better than it has in a long time, actually.

Harder, though, is the fact that I really enjoy food, and really enjoy cooking food. Especially delicious fried food. Giving that up has been really hard. It is less fun to cook, and it is way less fun to eat. But overall it is a good thing, if it helps add some years onto the end of my life, or makes those years more bearable because I will have my feet and hands.

So yeah. This hasn’t been the best month ever. But that having been said, I’m really glad that I’m doing this, and I keep telling myself it will be over soon. My target weight isn’t too much below where I am now, and once I hit that the amount of calories I can eat each day to maintain weight will allow me to eat much more normally.

That’s my monthly update, I guess. At least this one has some substance, right?

So in this spirit I ordered my skating pants with some special inside pockets. That way I can wear my pump and keep it on the inside, so that no one will know that I am diabetic while I am skating. I don’t want to be judged differently because of it. And I don’t think that I would be, but you never know.

And then over the last couple of days, I changed my mind. I think that I’ve decided to compete with my pump clipped to the back of my pants, on display, for everyone to see. Why? To get favor from a judge? To make people feel sorry for me? No. It is because maybe at the competition there will be some little kid, or some young teenager who has diabetes. Someone who is really embarrassed that they are “different.” Someone ashamed or scared or just having trouble with their diabetes. And it isn’t silly. It is really hard for kids and young teenagers who have this disease, from what I understand.

So maybe if they see someone out there, someone a little older than them, who has the same disease that they do, and is still able to do things, like compete in an athletic event, that it will make them feel a little better about themselves. Or maybe just let them know that they aren’t such a weird total freak.

Who knows? Chances are that I won’t be competing in such a situation where someone would notice. And maybe they wouldn’t even care. But based on the chance that maybe there is, I think I owe it to them, and especially to myself, to own this disease and show that it is okay. That it isn’t the end of the world and that we can do anything that people with working pancreases can do.

Step 1: Put insulin pump on suspend. (Causes it to temporarily stop giving insulin.)
Step 2: Drink a couple of cans of regular soda.
Step 3: Go to blood sugar testing van.
Step 4: Watch in shock as nurses see my ridiculously high blood sugar.

Now like I said, I wouldn’t do that. It could theoretically be dangerous, although one time most likely wouldn’t do any damage. But it would also make me feel like crap. And it just isn’t a terribly bright thing to do.

Still, it would be kinda funny to see the looks on their faces, eh? Eh?

Except for one thing. And that is that I wear a machine that plugs into my belly region and it keeps me alive. And I’m pretty sure that most people don’t have that. So I’m a little weird in that regard. And I’m not writing to complain, I’m actually writing to say that most of the time, I don’t even think about it. It has become such an integral part of my life, that I don’t view it as weird anymore. When I think of myself, I don’t view myself as any different, really, than I was 4 years ago, before I was sick.

And that is true 99% of the time. 99.999999% of the time, I would have to say. But there is this one instance that really makes me feel self conscious, about always upsets me way more than it has any right to. And that is when I fly.

I guess normally, either most people don’t notice my insulin pump, or they think it is a pager or iPod or a phone or something, and so they don’t comment on it. Plus, I wear it in my pocket, so you really only would see a clip, and maybe a little bit of the tubing, except I try to hide that as well. So it isn’t an everyday occurrence for it to be pointed out.

But every time I go through airport security, they ask about it, and I explain, and right away they realize and it is not an issue. But it really gets to me. For some reason, that one thing makes me feel more weird, and more different, and more “diseased” then any of the other things that I have to do to deal with.

So it really isn’t that big of a deal. I’ll go through security tomorrow, get a little bit upset, and then move on with my life. But it sure is an interesting little quirk that I have. At least to me.