Captain, Tenille and Dora the Explorer Take the Subway

I hopped the subway last week, late in the afternoon.  It wasn’t rush hour, but was just crowded enough that I didn’t get a seat.  I stood against the door and within a second I noticed the woman sitting across from me.  She was older, significantly overweight, and had a haircut that reminded me of Tennile (of Captain and Tennile fame… yes I date myself with my old lady Pop culture references).  I’ve lived in NYC a long time.  I have encountered my fair share of crazy.  Heck, I’m pretty sure there are people who readily describe me as crazy.  I’m not gonna lie, she gave off a crazy vibe.

Image from http://abclocal.go.com/ktrk/story?section=news/entertainment&id=9404844

Image from ABC News

My eyes immediately spotted something on her lap (you know, after I’d finished thinking myself quite the smartie recalling Tennile’s name and hair style).  The woman on the subway held onto a box with both hands.   The box was bright yellow and I immediately recognized the device photographed on the front.  That mini Freestyle blood glucose meter.  The top of the box was ripped off and paperwork was sticking out.  My heart lept.  One of MY PEOPLE.  I kept staring in a you-are -half-staring-at-people-on-the-subway sort of way.  I wondered what her story was.  I thought I should tell her I’m diabetic too.  My internal dialog then laughed at me.  If I saw another woman on the subway would I say to her, “hey I’m a woman too” and high-five her?  If I saw someone with the same brand of sneakers on would I say, “Oh I love Brooks too.. we should be running friends”?  I kept my non-staring, staring.  At the next stop, the person next to Tennile With The Freestyle Meter, got off the train so I grabbed the seat.  I sat there thinking, “Should I say something?  Am I crazier than this lady since I’m having this whole conversation in my head?  Why is there so much stuff sticking out of that box?”

Freestyle image from Walgreens

Freestyle image from Walgreens

I made a deal with myself.  If she didn’t get off at the next stop, I would say something.  We diabetics need to stick together right?  Being kind is a personal goal of mine and chatting is kindness right?  Sort of?  Or am I just a busy body who should be reading my book and minding my own business?

The next stop.  Tenille FreeStyle didn’t budge.  Neither did I.

Go time!

“Hi.  I noticed your glucose meter box (me, pointing at box).  Do you have diabetes?”

She barely turned her head (another sign of crazy maybe) and answered, “Yes”.

“Me too!” (I tried to sound like “yeah, whatever, cool” but am pretty sure I probably sounded way too excited, like a cartoon character).

She turned slightly but was still looking at me out of the corner of her eyes.  I also now had the attention of some fellow commuters who were practicing their non-staring-totally-staring look.  She said, “Doctor says I got it again real bad.  Blood over 300.  They gave me this” (I’m going to assume this was the box with the BG meter).

Hmmmm.  “Again”  threw me a bit.  “Got it real bad” made me wince slightly in that my-pancreas-quit-when-I-was-6-years-old-and-I’m-pretty-sure-I-don’t-have-it-“real good” kind of way.  Oh and did your doctor actually say that, because if so I’d like to rattle them.

My turn.

“Well I’ve been diabetic for almost 35 years.  It isn’t easy, but if I can do it, you can do it too.”

Tenille FreeStyle turned to look at me. She quickly looked me up and down and turned back to facing forward.

Nothing.  Awkward silence.  Ummmmm.

Next stop a woman got onto the subway with a very small child.  There were many more people now.  Unlike my fellow seated commuters who apparently were raised by wolves, I offered my seat to the woman with a kid who looked exactly like Dora The Explorer.  She nodded, took my seat, and pulled Dora onto her lap.

I stood to an angle overlooking Tenille FreeStyle.  Her eyes darted around but she definitely was NOT making eye contact with me.  Next stop, more people.  Now I had to move further from Tenille FreeStyle.  Well that was a bust.  At least Dora the Explorer was smiling at me.

My stop.  Dora and her Mom were getting off ahead of me.  I saw Tenille Freestyle give me a darting look as she slid into the corner spot where Dora and her Mom were sitting.  I thought I should say something.  What?  “Good luck”?  That sounded so lame but I needed to get off the train and way too many people were exiting all at once.  I looked down.  Tenille FreeStyle beat me too it.

“Thanks for talking.”

I’m not sure if she meant diabetes stuff or just that I spoke to her.

“I meant what I said, even when it doesn’t feel like it, you REALLY can do this.”

She thanked me again and said OK and I gave her a big smile.

I got off the train.  The whole thing was odd.  I blocked people getting on the train and they were clearly angry pushing into me as they tried getting where they were going.  I was the lone salmon swimming against the 6 train.

I walked down the platform thinking about Tenille Freestyle.   She’d smiled back at me as I left the train.  Her teeth were very mangled.  I thought how I really need to make a dentist appointment.  I thought how this little experience wasn’t a diabetes thing at all (I mean it is but it’s more than that).  It’s about being compassionate.  It’s about being kind.  But was I just kind because of diabetes?  I never would have spoken to her otherwise.  My immediate reaction was something was off with her.  I spoke to her because I thought she probably has diabetes and therefore I felt compelled to say something.  Hmmm.

I thought about how there are plenty of times that I feel burdened by diabetes.  That I am scared, sometimes really scared and that there are times I don’t feel I can necessarily just do it.  I usually keep these thoughts to myself.  Saying it out loud could make it true (and send up a major red flag to people who know me and give me a few more points in the crazy column).

Did I just lie to Tenille FreeStyle?  No.  I told her the truth.  I do think she can do it, and it is not easy.  If I’m willing to believe in a stranger, I need to believe a bit more in myself too.

Thanks Tenille FreeStyle.

*Please note: in an earlier paragraph I referenced people raised by wolves perhaps lacking the manners to give up their seat on the subway to someone in need.  I do not personally know any wolves.  I’m sorry if any wolves were offended by my comment.

 

The Love Train, Passion & Charo

Real quick…. Don’t have much time for blogging these days so here are a few food-for-thought-esque items:

1. I “followed” a woman around CVS to get a photo of her dog.  I thought the dog looked like Charo when I saw it on the street.  Yes, I then turned around and chased them through a store.  Cuchi, cuchi. I love this dog (the dog’s real name is Blanche).

charoJPG

 

2.  Someone once gave me the advice of taking a photo of your pump’s basal settings.  This is REALLY good advice.  When things go wrong, this is REALLY important stuff.  Do it.  Now.  I will wait.  Go.  Trust me.

basals

 

3.  I saw this sign last night on the subway.

diabetes subway

When the gal sitting in front of the sign got out at Grand Central Station, I took the fastest photo ever (everyone was walking into me at the same time… human bumper cars).  I have issues with this sign.  I DO want a healthier NYC.  I also have a huge desire to eradicate the belief that I had too much sugar as a kid and developed T1D.  I also would like it noted I never had orange soda. This will be it’s own blog post someday (the sign, not some lack of orange soda).  Which leads me to a post I think is effing brilliant (and if you missed this, do yourself a favor & absorb this one) from over at Sweetly Voiced.  If you are still reading my gibberish and skipped over the link in the last sentence, go back and click on it.  Worth it.

4.  This is what my Dexcom looked like this morning.

90

Pretty sweet.  My Low alarm is set at 90.  90 and steady is awesome.  You know what’s not so awesome? The alarm going off over and over at a 90 bg when you just want a few more minutes of sleep.  The alternative is to be 90 and dropping and not feeling it and never waking up again, so I guess that pesky alarm will just have to remain. Ahhh 90… you torture me with your goodness.

5.  This morning I saw this on a subway sign:

l train

 

Look closely at the “L”.  there’s a heart!  The L train is the LOVE train?  Say what?  Good stuff people.

6.  I read this earlier today after all the 90 bg alarming business.   I’m sure there’s a way to tie this into diabetes stuff but I’ll leave that one up to you (I gotta go).  I think it’s terrific.  Happy Wednesday.

“I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. He taught me that if you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it at full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good either. White hot and passionate is the only thing to be.”

Roald Dahl (1916-1990); British novelist