Turning perfectionism into optimalism

I’ve always been a bit of an idealist and a dreamer, and now my daughter is teaching me that what I thought was dreamy and romantic has always been perfectionism in disguise.

My perfectionism permeates every part of my life. And when it comes to health and living with diabetes, I have grand expectations of myself. I will go to great lengths to cure my body, live in perfect health, and have amazing blood sugars. But then, I get completely frustrated after pricking my finger and seeing a high or low sugar. I think about how I exercised and ate just right, counted my carbs and yet my sugars don’t always hit the perfect mark. And then whatever joy I had in what I was doing or whomever I was with at the time disappears and turns to stress and anxiety. And well, unhappiness.

I didn’t really think that I was such a big-time perfectionist though until I was watching my baby daughter Aria play, and I saw some of my own traits in her. That’s when the light bulb went off.

I was trying to figure out her frustrations. Babies nowadays are given tummy time since they sleep on their backs all night. And they sleep for something like sixteen hours a day. That’s a lot of time on your back! Time on their tummies is precious as it helps them learn a bunch of things like crawling and rolling over. Sounds nice huh? Yeah, well, because they spend much of their time on the backs, they don’t really like being on their tummies. And boy do they complain about it.

Aria has slowly gotten used to being on her tummy as she’s gotten stronger. And she has been rolling from her back to her tummy for over a month now. But after a few minutes on her tummy, she gets very frustrated and starts to scream. I figured she just didn’t like it, and so I showed her how to roll back. But then she’d roll back to her tummy again five seconds later. An automatic reflex? Probably. Babies tend to try to do things until they’ve mastered it. But then my husband noticed that she would make motions with her hands on the floor, kick her legs, and that she was staring straight ahead as though on a quest to get somewhere else. My husband realized immediately that she was trying to crawl.

I was amazed that she was even trying to crawl because she’s only six and a half months old. Actually she’s five and a half months old if you calculate her corrected age (which you do when a baby is born premature). And crawling is a nine-month old baby milestone. And then I realized – she was trying really hard to do something unrealistic for her age. It could very well be normal baby behavior, although my son doesn’t act that way. Each baby does develop differently. But what gets me is how frustrated she gets that she can’t do it yet. Where did she learn that from? Of course I first assumed that she had learned it from my husband. But then I realized: Had she learned to be a perfectionist like me?

I wasn’t searching for an answer when I found it. I was randomly reading a selection entitled “Perfectionism and Optimalism” from Even Happier by Tal Ben-Shahar, positive psychologist and the teacher of the most popular course at Harvard.

“The key difference,” between the perfectionist and optimalist, Ben-Shahar writes, is that “the former essentially rejects reality while the latter accepts it.” He says that the perfectionist expects “her path toward any goal – and indeed, her entire journey through life-to be direct, smooth, and free of obstacles.” And when things don’t turn out as a perfectionist had planned, she is extremely frustrated and has difficulty coping. And that could describe my daughter’s bout with trying to crawl at five and a half months of age – and my, well, entire approach to life - to a tee.

An even happier way to approach life is as an optimalist – a person who accepts obstacles as a natural part of life’s journey. “She understands that failure to get the job she wanted or getting into a fight with her spouse is part and parcel of a full and fulfilling life; she learns what she can from these experiences and emerges stronger and more resilient.”

Ben-Shahar tells us that perfectionists pay a high emotional price. Their rejection of failure leads to anxiety. They tend to set unrealistic standards for success. And because they never meet these standards, they “are constantly plagued by feelings of frustration and inadequacy.”

Optimalists on the other hand derive great emotional benefit, according to Ben-Shahar, and are able to lead rich and very fulfilling lives by accepting that failure is natural. “They experience less performance anxiety and derive more enjoyment from their activities.” They set goals they can actually attain because they are aware of their limitations.

I would like to learn to be more like an optimalist. Not only for my daughter’s sake, but for mine as well. Ben-Shahar suggests a mindful approach to turning perfectionism into optimalism, such as journaling on areas where you are a perfectionist and areas where you tend to be more like an optimalist.

I can say that I’m a perfectionist when it comes to art and design, and I am an optimalist when I write. Which may be why I write, but don’t paint or draw even though I want to. I can’t help but wonder: What would I be doing if perfectionism – or fear of failure – wasn’t holding me back?

I heard myself saying to Aria the other day, “You can do it. Keep practicing. Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Perhaps I should take the words I use to encourage my daughter – for myself.

Fall detox gone....bad?

I have been looking for ways to clear the inflammation and pain in my right hip (I lost range of motion after a c-section in May), and I got my inspiration to try an Ayurvedic fall detox from wellness coach and stage 4 breast cancer survivor Kris Carr last week while reading the October edition of Yoga Journal.

“Inflammation is stress that comes from what you’re eating, drinking, and thinking, and it’s a root cause of chronic disease.” She promotes plant-based diets in her interview to balance your body’s pH, while decreasing acidic foods like animal products, processed sugars, and starches. “But it’s not just what we’re eating that affects our health; it’s also what’s eating us – how well we sleep, sweat, and love, and whether or not we’re committing to our Down Dogs.”

I grappled. I couldn’t see myself adopting a plant-based, vegan diet as a lifestyle. I like steak, yogurt, cakes, and cookies. Oh yeah, she also says to ditch the dairy (animal product). I have no problem with doing yoga, meditating, or loving. I never had a problem with sleep until I got pregnant, but I’m sure I can get that back again once the kids sleep through the night without a peep – hopefully that’ll be some time soon. But no animal products or starches? Yikes.

I thought I’d do a detox instead since it might bring me the peace and balance that I am looking for, and hopefully reduce the inflammation in my hip. But it’s not a permanent life change, although could inspire some changes.

The Ayurvedic fall detox, also found in the October edition, has a few steps: 1. Slowing down – purposefully; 2. The Detox diet; 3. Cleansing daily yoga; 4. Self-study/reflection.

I didn’t have any appointments scheduled last week, and so I thought it was the perfect time to give it a go. The diet consists of ginger tea, carrot-ginger soup, beans, and a dish called Kitchari, made of rice and mung beans made throughout Asia to purify the body. I asked my husband, a great cook, to make enough for four days, and I bought organic brands of the rest. Yoga Journal provides daily yoga videos on-line, and I scheduled a babysitter so that I could sit for an hour on Wednesday and meditate in nature and journal on finding peace and balance.

Determined to find “the answer” to everything that is challenging me these days, I set out on the detox religiously. I ate the kitchari twice a day as advised and drank unsweetened ginger tea and did the yoga videos. At first I didn’t notice any difference, but by the end of the first day, I noticed that my day flowed so easily. I was, dare I say, happy. I felt less encumbered by silly mind ramblings and rants. The kids were happier too. They were eating well, sleeping hard, and playing happily. I was writing better and finding time to do everything I had in mind for the day without stressing about it. I began to organize things around the house and even cleaned a bit. By the second day, I set out to conquer a fear of mine. This may sound silly, but I took my six month old twins out all on my own to run some errands despite some really, really bad experiences doing so in the past.

By the third day, I was more focused on how hungry I was than on peace and a flexible hip. And the kitchari, well to be polite, is not my taste. Okay, let’s just be blunt: It’s really nasty and bland. I added salt. Not very mindfully detox of me. But I added salt, and it still tasted nasty and bland. I reflected by the river that morning, and got the answers I was looking for. I felt like I had done what I needed to do. And so by the end of day three, I made myself eggs and toast for dinner. By day four, I had re-introduced yogurt and had salmon for dinner. By day five, I was eating meat again and didn’t even do yoga that morning. By day six, my hip was bothering me again. I even had a bad episode over the weekend and started complaining again about stress.

How did my fall detox go...bad? Well, you could just say that the kitchari was nasty and I was hungry. But I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that. Perhaps a bit of self-sabotage? What would I do with my life...what would I think about....if I was actually happy, at peace, and balanced? Bottom line: I bolted. And there's always a reason, a lesson, when we self-sabotage. When we reach for a cookie when we're on a diet, or when we don't finish a project we know will be good for us and others.

So what’s a girl to do? Accept that life is not all roses. Challenges are a part of life. And to be mindful that sometimes we stray. And learn the lesson.

Becoming a NICU Warrior Mom

Ethan and Aria were born prematurely thirteen weeks ago. Ethan has been at the NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) since he was born. I have decided to devote the next few blogs to sharing the lessons I am learning from the NICU experience.


I have been transformed into a warrior mom during my son’s journey at the NICU.

In the beginning of Ethan’s stay, I was quite the opposite of a warrior mom. I was completely overwhelmed the first few weeks actually. I was recovering from a c-section and had a newborn at home on top of having a child in the NICU. I was sleep-deprived, and my body was going through a huge hormonal transformation. I was overwhelmed with guilt regarding both children, feeling torn between them, and in the meanwhile, not taking as good care of myself as I needed. I missed Ethan terribly, but wanted to be fair to Aria as well. My feelings of guilt have not gone away, BUT I have come to accept that we’re doing the best we can with the situation we’ve been given.

That feeling of acceptance of the situation took a while. And in the beginning of his stay, all of those feelings I just mentioned were distracting me from the matter at hand – providing Ethan with the best, most loving care possible.

I listened to what the doctors said about my son and his care. I asked questions, but I didn’t question. I didn’t want to upset any of the nurses since they were with my son, caring for him, much more than I was.

Then issues began to transpire. I was not happy with some of the directions that were being taken regarding his care.

One of the issues that concerned us (and still does) was consistent care and the passing on of information: The doctors work on rotations. The nurses work in shifts. The residents are there on a monthly basis. We found that each doctor has their own approach, and plans would change constantly. People are human, sometimes details get lost when passed from one person to the next, and messages were not necessarily being passed on from nurse to nurse effectively.

What this means is that our son was being passed from one hand to the next, and not receiving the same care. So he became inconsistent. For example, eating really well one day, and not the next. Growth and eating healthy are very crucial parts to a baby's well-being. My husband and I were the only consistency in his life, and we couldn’t be there all the time.

Time was passing. I wasn’t at the stage where I could see what was going on clearly. And I couldn’t understand why my son was still there or what was keeping him there. What still had to be done to get him home?

I really didn’t know who to speak with about the issues, and it was hard for me to put a handle on what was bothering me exactly. I was more emotional than effective. So I would speak with the nurses. I developed relationships with many of them. And as I spoke to them more and more – and spent more and more time at the NICU, I began learning how things work around there.

One of the nurses suggested that we ask for a family meeting to discuss a plan for discharge with the doctor. My husband took a day off from work. We brought Aria with us. And we sat with a team of doctors involved in his care, along with a nurse Ethan had never seen before and one of the residents.

We asked about the plan for discharge, or the plan for getting him ready for discharge. The doctors seemed to have a different agenda for our meeting though. They wanted to talk about their search for an answer to the BIG question: Why did my son stop growing in utero at 26 weeks? Is there something else going on besides being a small, premature baby?

The doctors told us about a series of tests they had run and were going to run. And their theories as to what could be happening. And I was overwhelmed with emotions once again: Oh no, what are they going to tell me that my son has? I thought we were going to talk about my son coming home. I knew they were running tests, but I hadn’t given them much thought. (In the meanwhile, all of the tests have come back normal.)

It hit me a week after that meeting, after I had gotten hold of my emotions. If he has something, we'll deal with it. That's not keeping him in the NICU though. Right now, our focus and our main goal is to get him home. I had been distracted by other things rather than doing everything I can to get him discharged. My son needed me to be more involved. Like super duper, above and beyond involved. I needed to be clear-headed, understanding, prepared, smart and intuitive. I needed to speak up when I didn’t understand or was unsure of a treatment. I needed to be on top of things. I wanted to know about every test, every feeding, every prick, and every poop.

My husband and I began doing research. Asking questions. I began speaking to the doctor every day, and I still call the nurses several times a day to ask for updates. I started taking notes and tracking his progress. I wrote down the names of all the tests and asked for reports. I want to know EVERYTHING. I learned how they calculated certain measurements, and I began calculating them too. We complained to the NICU bosses regarding consistency in care, and sure enough, notes began appearing on our son’s crib with plans of care. And when something doesn’t go the way I think it should go or am confused about how it should go: I speak to the doctor, the nurse manager, or the patient relations representative (depending on the situation) and things get taken care of immediately.

I really don’t care if people like me or not. This is my son’s care we’re talking about. Yes, it is more effective if I approach practitioners in a user-friendly way, and I do my best to stay calm, clear, and understanding. That’s for sure. But that doesn’t mean that I have to go out of my way to please them if I see a problem either.

In the meanwhile, I have come to realize that the NICU staff – from the doctors to the nurses to the secretaries – really, really, really do care about our son’s well-being. And they will do whatever they can to help him. I know that for sure.

We’re all human. We all try our best. And our best might change at any given moment. And that’s why I’ve decided to become as clear as I can be of emotions that hold me back, and to transform into a warrior mom.

Twin delivery at 34 weeks – a mother’s intuition

I haven’t written in a while. A lot has been going on. Yes, that’s right. I have BIG news. Baby boy Ethan Joseph Busel and baby girl Aria Jordan Busel were born on May 11, 2011 at 9:23 and 9:24 am respectively.

And here’s why I haven’t written since April...

My pregnancy became complicated at around week 26. I am fine. Diabetes is fine. Actually, I saw my endocrinologist last week and he said, “Your diabetes is so well-controlled that you are on auto-pilot despite being completely pre-occupied.” My last A1C was 6.1, and my blood pressure and other tests are fantastic. Yay for me.

The kids, actually Ethan, were having problems though. Ethan’s placenta had negative Doppler flow, which means that blood and nutrients were flowing out rather than in. His growth stopped at week 26. He was born very small. I mean very, very, very small.

We were told he wouldn’t make it. And we had a decision to make: deliver early in an attempt to save him – putting them both at risk - or prolong the pregnancy as long as possible hopefully giving her a better chance. He would be at risk for survival no matter what, according to the doctors.

We were told the risks of delivering at different stages during the pregnancy. If we delivered anywhere before 32 weeks, they would both be at serious risk for brain, heart, and lung malfunctions.

The day we found out that Ethan might not make it, we cried. Oh did we ever cry. The decision was really difficult. When should we deliver? What is the best date so they both make it? Healthy???

After a lot of deliberation and meetings with doctors, multiple ultrasounds, we decided to push the pregnancy as long as possible. Lior wanted to deliver at 32 weeks. The high risk doctor tried to push us to 36 weeks. My woman’s/mother’s intuition told me 34.

I was still questioning that little voice I heard until my OB/GYN told me 34 as well. Confirming my feeling with his medical experience. A c-section was scheduled.

The little voice was really a whisper, a very clear whisper. I heard it during one of our doctors' meetings at around week 28 or so. We were talking about our options for delivery. And I heard "34" loud and clear. I know when I hear a clear intuitive whisper because it makes me stop in my tracks. I normally would have been hysterically crying, but instead, I stopped, listened, and even smiled. I knew I had been given guidance. I believe it was divine guidance, but who knows.

I was monitored very closely for the last eight weeks of my pregnancy. I went for ultrasounds two to three days a week – never knowing if there would be two heartbeats or not, but believing with all my heart and soul that there was.

And Ethan kept kicking. I could feel him moving. Actually I felt him moving more than she. He would twist and turn – pushing on my ribs, pressing on my bladder. She flittered a bit, but nothing painful. I actually started worrying about her too. The ultrasounds were reassuring me about her, and every kick and every push was a God send regarding him. It reassured me that he was going to be okay, and I felt deeply with all my heart that he would make it.

The weeks passed. My doctors decided to send me out on maternity leave – to lower the risk of delivering early.

May 11th rolled around, and I went into the c-section a nervous wreck. Not only because of the surgery, but also because of the outcome. What would happen? Will he be okay? Will she be okay? Will I be okay? Honestly, the experience was traumatic, yet thrilling. I was about to become a mom! But this wasn’t at all how I imagined it being.

The doctor was in the midst of injecting the epidural (painful), when the NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) doctor came over to me, with her piercing blue eyes and said, “You know your son might not make it?”

“Yes, I know,” I growled.

Sheesh, what timing. I couldn’t kick her because of the effects of the epidural. They probably plan it that way. She was wearing a Jewish star around her neck though, and I couldn’t help but feel that God was on our side. I always felt that he would make it. I just knew.

I was laid down on the surgical table. Lior was brought into the room. He held my hand reassuring me that I was okay. “Remember to breathe,” he said. I asked him to say that despite not having to push through labor pains since breathing reminds me to be present, rather than making up worry-wart stories in my head.

The operating room was packed like Grand Central Station. There were five person teams of doctors and nurses for each baby, and also the anesthesiologist, three residents, the OB/GYN, the high risk doctor, OR nurses, my husband...oh yeah and me.

The operation had begun. I will spare you the details. But basically after a lot of freaking out on my part, and a lot of Lior calming me down, I heard the doctor sing, “I feel your son kicking me.”

A minute or two later (maybe it was even seconds), I heard crying. Crying. Yes, I heard crying. “That’s your son,” I heard the doctor say.

And a minute later, I heard another cry. And that was Aria. Everyone had expected her to come out first, but sure enough, he kicked his way to the front of the line.

The nurses brought both of them over for me to see. The proof was there. I am a mom of two beautiful children. And they’re both alive, breathing, and yes, crying. Lior went to check: Five fingers and five toes on each hand and foot. Forty altogether.

The room cleared out. The babies were taken to the NICU. They needed special treatment since they were premature. I was stitched up and to make a long story short, I went to work on recovering from the c-section.

Aria was in the NICU for 10 days. She was sent home on May 22. She has been an absolute joy, and it’s a load of fun watching her discover the world.

Ethan is still there. He had more work ahead of him on the road to recovery, and now we’re waiting for the finishing touches. He’s doing really well and I’m impressed with how much he’s overcome. I don’t know when he’s coming home since they tell you a day or two before the discharge. He has been there for 10 weeks though, and needless to say, it’s been a complicated and emotional journey. (more on that in future blogs)

I’ve been living in uncertainty for quite some time, and needless to say, it’s been rough. A roller coaster ride of emotions.

I am fortunate to have the support and love of family and friends. Our entire family has also been supported by a wonderful team of doctors, nurses, and professionals along the way. I have also been utilizing my usual mix of yoga, walks, journaling on gratitude and about whatever is bothering me. And honestly, I have also had sleepless nights, mad researching on the internet, lots of calls to the NICU for updates, meetings with doctors, and countless crying sessions. I’ve been allowing myself to feel whatever I need/want to feel.

But I’m okay.

This experience has been a huge lesson for me in coping with uncertainty, being present, and listening to my intuition. I have learned to put a lot of trust in the Universe’s grand design, clearing my head of the worries and fears, and listening for those whispers of clarity. I can’t say that I’ve mastered the lesson yet, but I’m working on it.

It’s a lesson in letting go of control and trusting that the Universe is on our side. As a friend of mine wrote me the other day, forces are constantly in motion around the Universe working within our best interests. Our lesson is to relinquish ourselves to that and trust it. As Eckhart Tolle said in “A New Earth,” once we become at peace with uncertainty, once we accept it and embrace presence, the world opens. And it has. I have experienced it time and time again throughout my life and most recently, with the birth of my son and daughter.

So here I am living in a holding pattern - waiting for my son to heal. But hey, he’s alive. He’s overcome SO MUCH and improves every day! He smiles, observes, learns, sleeps, plays, eats, and grows. And perhaps because I heard a whisper and listened, perhaps because I trusted the Universe, perhaps because of love, positive energy and prayer, and perhaps because of science and quality medical care. Whatever the reason: I feel at peace with the decision we made, and the Universe rewarded us with two wonderful miracles.

I’m ready to start writing again. See you next Monday.

An intuitive approach to feeding and sleeping schedules for twins

At this point in my pregnancy (26 weeks), I’ve started thinking about those first few months after the twins are born. I have a number of people who are very close to me who have twins – both family and friends - who have all highly, let me say this again HIGHLY, recommended scheduling the twins’ feedings.

They say that it is better for everyone – mom and the babies. It will hopefully provide me with some semblance of emotional and physical sanity. The babies are known to sleep better, eat better, and be less fussy. I have heard multiple stories of twins (no pun intended) who sleep through the night at 12 weeks because of the schedule.

So I have been hard at work learning about the schedule. Turns out that there is a whole philosophy behind this, and I have a feeling that this topic will come up again in my blogs – especially once I have experience with it.

To be honest, as I’ve been learning, the whole scheduling thing has been kind of stressing me out. What I understood from everyone who has experience with it is that you don’t feed the kids on demand. You feed them certain amounts at certain times of the day, and with multiples, you urge them to eat together. Otherwise, mom – in this case soon to be me – will never have a moment of much-needed rest, i.e., sanity.

Baby nurses have told me that newborns eat every two to three hours in the beginning. If those twins aren’t eating and sleeping at the same time….well, I’m sure you can figure out what that might be like.

But at the same time, I have understood from a lot of people – including the same baby nurses – that the babies themselves let you know what their schedule is – which seems on the surface to be contrary to the other pieces that I’ve been told.

After lots of talking, I totally get that the schedule is key. I’m a fan of the concept, and I want to learn about it and implement it.

I’m at the point now where I want someone to tell me exactly what to do: “Feeding #1 is at 7 am; feeding #2 is at 10 am” and so on. But I have to wait. I’ve been told that the hospital will create the schedule, which has made me feel better.

Besides the not knowing where to turn to learn about the schedule, I have also been stressed about not wanting the schedule to be messed up. I’ve met with different childcare professionals who are not into the schedule. They believe in feeding when the baby is hungry. But they assure me that they will follow what we ask.

I want to be sure to get this right so that I don’t wind up torturing these two little ones and starving them to death, but at the same time, keep the schedule so that it works for all of us. Healthy mom, healthy babies, happy everyone.

As for the first stressor: the how. The answer totally hit me just the morning. I’m on a schedule. A diabetic schedule. Please, I’ve been living the schedule all of my life. Check sugars at these times, eat at those times, and take insulin at such and such times. I’m so scheduled that it’s hard for me to not be on a schedule. (And I do sleep well.) The doctors tell me when to check my sugars and what to do. I’ve got this one down.

I suppose the difference is that soon I’ll be responsible for two little helpless beings’ schedules. That’s the freaky part. My wonderful friends gave me the best advice they could give: You’ll just know. Intuitively.

Intuition is a beautiful thing. Probably the smartest advice out there. I need to step out of my own way. Calm those crazy thoughts. Get out of my head. And just breathe. And then let the real me – the intuitive me – do the talking.

The second stressor: Dependent on others to abide by my wishes. Even freakier.
Here we go with that “letting go” lesson again….I can’t control others. I need to just trust that they will listen and do what’s best.

Pregnant or not, diabetic or not – we all get sucked into stressful thoughts. They’re fear based. And the best thing for all of us is to get out of our own heads. Be present and wisdom will follow. Have some faith and trust.

We can all heed the advice of mothers around the world – and just trust our intuition no matter what the circumstance. I’ll let you know how it goes…

Type 1 and pregnant…with twins

I’ve been keeping a secret from you. Waiting for the right time to tell. And oh, there’s been so much to talk about…so much!

Yes, I am 18 weeks and one day pregnant, with twins. But who’s counting? (A full pregnancy term is counted as forty weeks.) Hooray! Yes, we’re thrilled and deep in the throes of babies’ preparation. And all three of us are healthy and doing great. My husband Lior too.

It’s been tough keeping this a secret, for as you can imagine getting pregnant as a Type 1 diabetic is loaded with questions, fears, doctors’ appointments, more fears, lots of thinking, and in my case, lots of journaling, meditating, and yoga. It’s been a long road, and sometimes a torturous one, coming to a decision to put myself at risk to bring life into this world.

This is a high risk pregnancy – times three. Going into this pregnancy, I knew that I would be at high risk times two because of the Type 1 diabetes and being of “advanced maternal age” which happens after you reach the age of 35 (yup, it’s true!). But I didn’t expect twins – at all. It’s a great surprise. We’re thrilled. But yes, there are risks involved.

But here I am. Taking the plunge. And I must say that I’m doing quite well. I have everything I need – great medical care, a supportive husband, family, and friends, and a happy and healthy lifestyle.

I didn’t always see it this way though.

I was around 18 or 19 years old when I first realized that getting pregnant would be a risky thing for me. I went to see the movie Steel Magnolias starring Julia Roberts as Shelby, a Type 1 diabetic, and Sally Fields as her mother M’Lynn.

In the movie, Shelby decides to have children after her dream wedding. Her mother is concerned that Shelby’s body won’t be able to handle pregnancy, and yet she supports her daughter’s decision. The movie then jumps to a year and a half later when they celebrate Shelby’s child’s first birthday. The occasion isn't a 100% happy one. Shelby is suffering from kidney failure as a result of the pregnancy. She passes away after grueling treatment, including hospitalization, surgery, and a transplant.

Her mother M’Lynn is forced to bury Shelby at a young age and helps raise her child.

That movie shook me to my core. As a young girl, I had never realized that having children could be risky for diabetics. I kept it to myself though and just pondered. I wasn’t ready to think about having kids, and I didn’t really know how to digest the whole thing. But one thing is for sure, now I knew that having children wouldn’t be as easy, or as much a given, as I had thought.

Then, at the age of 19, I was diagnosed with diabetic retinopathy – which is damage to the eye's retina that occurs with long-term diabetes. I had a 50-50 chance of going blind. Then, when I was around 21, the doctors diagnosed me with kidney ‘challenges’ and placed me on a medication called Diovan. They also advised me to eat a strict vegetarian diet.

Getting pregnant became riskier and riskier. Pregnancy affects eyesight, as well as kidneys, and blood sugars, and more…

I didn’t want to risk my eyesight. I started contemplating adoption at age 24 or 25. (These were the days before surrogacy was a hot topic.) I dated different guys in my 20s, all the while wondering when I should spill the beans, letting them know that I wouldn’t be able to carry kids.

Life plodded along. I had discussed the topic with my friends more than once, but still hadn’t consulted a doctor. Then, when I was around 26 or 27 years old, I decided to discuss the topic of pregnancy with a former doctor of mine, Dr. P.

Dr. P was an old-school doctor who smoked cigarettes between patient visits, which didn’t faze me back in the mid 90’s by the way. She was the doctor who advised me not to use an insulin pump, which also at the time made complete sense to me. The pump was new on the market and people still didn’t know how effective it was. And she is also the doctor who told me that pregnancy would be a problem for me. Not related to fertility or anything like that, or the fact that I wasn’t dating anyone at the time, but because I am a Type 1 diabetic who had kidney ‘challenges’ and who had diabetic retinopathy.

Period. The doctor said it, and I accepted it. I was not to have children via pregnancy.

Well, then in 2001, life changed for me, big time. I decided to move to Israel. I left the comforts of the life and doctors I had known for 30 years, and moved to a country where having children has a whole different cultural vibe around it. Israelis receive 12 or 13 weeks of paid maternity leave. Dads can take time too. Many people have five kids (or more) per family rather than the 2.2 I had grown accustomed to here in the US. Everyone in Israel has healthcare. A whole new ballgame and a whole different attitude. Having kids, in any way, was encouraged – even by strangers you just meet on the street.

And I had a new doctor. He encouraged me to go on the pump. I resisted. He told me that my kidneys had healed, and that I could start eating meat again after 12 years of vegetarianism. Actually, they encouraged me to eat meat as it would help stabilize my blood sugars. I changed my diet and my insulin regimen, walked a lot, and my A1C’s started dropping. My retinopathy was stable for well over 10 years at this point. The turn-around had begun.

And then I met my husband. He proposed in 2004, and we married in 2005 and decided to settle down in the USA. I had brought up the topic of kids with my husband. He was completely okay with adopting. And yet I still thought of a million reasons why having kids at that time was a bad idea. My range of excuses: We were living in a one bedroom shoebox and needed to get our ‘house’ in order.

As time moved on, the subject of kids would come up from time to time. I would list my excuses and Lior would say, “When is it ever the right time to have kids?” “People all over the world in situations much more dire than ours have kids every day.” “Other people do it, why can’t we?” “Medicine has completely changed. Why don’t we talk to your doctors about pregnancy and then we can decide?”

Medicine has changed. I went on the pump in 2006, stepped up my work-outs, and ate even healthier, more calculated. My A1C’s continued dropping. I was diagnosed with Celiac, and gluten-free eating took my health to a whole new level of great. My kidneys were completely clear, and the doctors took me off of Diovan. My cholesterol levels were fantastic. My blood pressure was phenomenal.

We bought a home, were both working, and we were building up our lives to a point where I couldn’t avoid it anymore. I had been avoiding the kids’ topic. For years. The time was never right. But I was reaching my late 30s, and time kept on ticking.

I had to face it: What was holding me back? I knew very well what was holding me back. Pure, absolute fear of what might happen, the unknown. Losing my eyes. Losing my kidneys. Becoming like Shelby and dying young because I insisted on having kids myself rather than adopting. We looked into adoption, but the costs were beyond our scope. And Lior said, “Why don’t we look into getting pregnant, do some research, talk to doctors, and then we can decide?”

So we went to doctors. Lots of them – two (or three) endocrinologists, an ophthalmologist, and an OB/GYN. And they all gave me the green light! I was shocked. On top of that, I was sent to a high risk doctor for a consultation, and after she listed a whole slew of things that could go wrong, she said, “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

Had I created this madness in my head for the last decade or so? Okay, it’s true, my health had improved. I became much more conscious, more on top of things. I checked my sugars constantly. Adjusted my insulin accordingly. But was it really that simple? “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

If I just changed my way of thinking, I could have a healthy, easy pregnancy despite all of the risks involved. I realized that I had the choice to create the reality I want for my life – through the thoughts I choose to have. Of course, I still had to monitor my sugars, exercise, and eat right. But, keeping my perceptions in check, stress low, and a healthy attitude could really make the difference.

So we decided to get pregnant in 2010. Go for it. Take the plunge. We learned that we were pregnant in early October. And I can tell you that when I got pregnant, I was in a complete and absolute place of trust that everything would work out just fine.

What I’ve learned through this whole thing: It's one thing to talk the talk, but it's another to walk the walk. Don’t let fear hold you back from what you want in life. Ever. But just know if you have in the past, it’s never too late to just go for it.

I look forward to sharing more about Type 1 and pregnancy...Thanks for listening!

The art of relaxation - animal style

You may have noticed from my last few blogs that I’m searching for balance, seeking a way to streamline my life, trying to turn negative into positive, and find a way to savor those wonderful moments of freedom.

So, I went to my parents who live by the Jersey shore for the weekend. I was there for family reasons, but also to unwind, relax, and do nothing. De-stress. I spent the weekend going for walks on the boardwalk, reading on the couch for hours, taking naps, and sitting around and talking with family.

I had a relaxing weekend. But I was already feeling down again this morning. So what did a relaxing weekend fix?

Just in the nick of time, I bought Oprah magazine this month, in which life coach Martha Beck approaches the topic in a new way in The Secret to Surviving Life's Low Points.

We all go through ups and downs, she says, the ebbs and flows of life.

Humans are not alone in this adventure though; animals go through ebbs and flows too. The difference between them and us (well besides the obvious) is that when an animal goes through an ebb, they stretch out their paws and rest. Have you ever watched a lion, a cat, or a dog when they are resting? They literally do nothing, all while being present. Examining and listening to their surroundings, stretching their bodies like a good yoga work-out, and napping in between.

They’re meditating.

And then when they wake up out of their funk, they’re ready to play, eat, go for a walk, and have a jolly good time until the next ebb comes again.

We humans feel the need to fix our ebbs, make them better, turn them into something positive, pushing away and suppressing our downs and forcing them to be something they’re not. We tend not to stretch out our paws. Instead, we do other things – positive things that will uplift our spirits, “fix” the problem, make lemonade out of lemons.

Martha Beck advises us to just accept that lemons are a part of life just as lemonade is. The ebbs – just as the flows - are natural. And they’re telling us something.

The issue is that many of us are afraid of the ebbs, Beck points out. A downturn in our lives may be the precursor to impending doom. Facing the fear is the next step, she advises. Turn the fear into appreciation. It is scientifically impossible for fear and appreciation to exist at the same time.

But the real lesson in all of this, after accepting that downs happen and appreciating our lives is to hear the message. Ebbs are telling us loud and clear to REST.

She means really rest. Do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Like a lion or a bear. Meditate. Just be. Observe your surroundings without judgment. Listen to the sounds. Focus on your breath. Your heart beat. Get in touch with your inner feelings, the sensations in your body, and find the places in your body where rest and relaxation reside. Become attuned to them. Empty your head.

Watching TV, reading a book, and hanging out with friends is not doing nothing. It may seem like nothing because you are not “getting things done”. Those kinds of activities, although may be fun, are really a camouflage. Suppressing whatever is really going on, and perpetuating the ebb so that it resurfaces in another form later.

After a great weekend, I had a mini-ebb this morning. The problems that caused the initial big ebb hadn’t gone away. They were merely suppressed for a few hours.

So I listened to Martha, and I meditated outside. I listened to my breath, to the birds chirping, and looked at the most incredible view of a white moon sitting in the midst of a bright blue sky. I stretched my arms and rolled my shoulders.

I wasn’t seeking to “fix the problem” or get things done or even turn my frown upside down. And what I wound up feeling was pure bliss. I also discovered the root of what’s been eating at me.

Next time I feel down, the first thing I’m going to do – is nothing.

Changing habits with a detox: Part 1

I started a detox yesterday that I found in the March 2010 edition of Natural Health magazine. The typical and most obvious reason for doing a detox is to, as the name implies, detoxify the body from pollutants found in food and the atmosphere. You are advised to change the type of foods you eat, and in the detox that I’m doing, the reader is told to meditate, journal, practice light yoga and walking, and go to the sauna during the process.

I had always thought that a detox was not doable for me since I’m diabetic. To me, a detox meant drinking blended spinach drinks and eating grapes. I figured that I would be on the ground in a diabetic coma within one hour with a diet like that. The magazine’s program seems very doable though. As for the food, it advises to: “think fresh, whole, organic foods. Eat plenty of vegetables (choose sweet potatoes instead of white potatoes), fresh fruits, non-gluten grains, beans, legumes, small amounts of nuts, seeds, nut butters, lean, organic poultry and wild fish.” Alas, this detox does not mean starvation. (Disclaimer: I am in no way advising that you do a detox. If you do decide to do so, be sure to read the entire magazine article and check with a doctor first.)

I did not have any goals in mind when I decided to start the detox. It just seemed like a nice idea, a project. But then I slowly formed a goal: Use the detox as a needed push for changing some habits.

I eat healthy most of the time, but I have two weak points during the day: grazing around 4 or 5 pm and late night snacking, after dinner in front of the television. I eat healthy junk, and I weigh and measure it. I don’t feel the guilt inherent in late night snacking because of this. So why stop? Health: Weight loss and better blood sugars. I figured that this detox could train me to stop eating when I’m really not hungry.

Around the same time, I was also listening to a Pema Chodron CD workshop on getting unstuck. Pema Chodron is the first ever female, Western Tibetan Buddhist monk. Pema talks about a Tibetan Buddhist principle called shenpa during the workshop. Shenpa is a feeling which is very hard to define but is translated as attachment. It is like a hook, which you can sometimes feel in your body as tension, and usually occurs as a reaction to something or someone else. And you react to that hook, or attachment, either by going numb, getting aggressive, or having cravings.

Let me give you an example: Someone says something to you that touches a nerve. How do you react? For some, their body gets tense, and they keep their hurt feelings inside and then will talk about the person later, go out for happy hour, or watch television and eat lots of comfort food. Some people will answer with a quick comeback or yell or plead with a statement seeking approval. Some people will drink alcohol or do drugs or completely numb out. That feeling that hooks you is shenpa. Most people seek comfort from shenpa, as I wrote through numbness, aggressiveness, or cravings, but this only brings comfort in that moment. According to Pema, shenpa is the cause of addiction.

I’ve never really thought of myself as having an addictive personality. I hardly drink a whole glass of wine when I do drink. I don’t do drugs or smoke. But I do love watching television. And I love my morning coffee. And I love to snack! Do they bring me comfort? In that moment, they do. But then I’m sorry later. I wind up not losing those pounds that I’m working so hard most of the time to lose, and even worse, my blood sugars wind up being less than ideal.

Pema suggests that the way to get unstuck from shenpa is through the four R’s: recognize, refrain, relax, and resolve. First, become aware – recognize – when shenpa arises. Then, refrain from reacting and as I’m learning, reacting is really quick, momentary comfort seeking. Reacting can mean going numb or craving what you don't have, too, not only yelling or answering back aggressively. So in my case, that would mean refraining from snacking on comfort foods. Relax means to be with the shenpa, with the hook, rather than suppressing it through go-to comforts. Pema suggests breathing with the feeling. It doesn’t go away, but instead of suppressing the hook and possibly causing disease, pain, and anxiety, you are giving it space. Finally, resolve means to accept that shenpa is a part of life, and will continue to arise over and over again. Once you accept it, not pushing it away, you can live life more fully.

After hearing these teachings, I realized that I could use this detox to change some habits and hopefully live a healthier and thus happier life.

Here’s an update from the first day: I noticed that I didn’t feel the need to watch as much television, nor did I check e-mail or visit websites, nearly as much as I typically do. I am finding that I have more time, and so I went for a walk by the river yesterday and have been reading a book for the fun of it. I did watch some TV last night, and found that I began to crave chocolate after viewing a Hershey’s commercial. Otherwise, I hadn’t even thought of eating. I only miss coffee when I think about it.

I hope that by the end of this process I’ll figure out which habits I want to keep and which I will release from my repertoire for the long haul. Stay tuned for "Changing habits with a detox: Part 2" next Monday!

Have you ever done a detox? Tell me all about it! I'd love to hear about the program you did and how it affected you.

Finding certainty during uncertain times

What do you know for sure? How does it feel when you know something for sure? That’s the feeling I am trying to capture.

My life has been filled with uncertainty lately between health, family, recession, and so on. And I’d like to change that. While writing this blog post, I remembered that life is always filled with uncertainty, and if this is true, which it is, then staying true to my beliefs, I just need to figure out how to use the uncertainty so that it empowers me rather than sucking the life right out from under me.

When I feel uncertain, I get nervous. My mind fills with clutter thoughts like: What’s going to happen? I then attach possible outcomes to different scenarios, like ‘If I just eat apples and walnuts, then I believe my blood sugars will be okay’ or ‘if I don’t use artificial sweeteners, then maybe I won’t get cancer.’ My body then tightens because I really prefer the taste of peanut butter over walnuts and Splenda over Truvia. I feel angst in my stomach and my shoulders tighten. And I feel that I need a good massage, a vacation, or wine…That feeling of: I just want “to get away from it all”.

Don’t we all feel those anxious feelings of uncertainty sometimes? Although I like a good massage and love vacations, most days that’s not happening, and so I’d like to find a way to go through life feeling like I’m already on vacation – or well, at least feel like I don’t need one.

And this is where the power of choice comes in. Although very little in life is under our control, we do get to choose our thoughts, our words, and our actions to some degree. And our thoughts really do create the reality of our lives. If we choose to be anxious, then we’re anxious. If we choose to be happy, then we’re happy. Using this theory, I can basically wash away the thoughts of uncertainty and replace them with thoughts of trust and knowing. We all can.

So after reading an article by Deepak Chopra this week, I remembered that a good way to do this is to focus on the feeling of certainty, the feeling of knowing something for sure. How does that feel like to you?

For me, I know that really knowing something for sure – and I’m talking about something that isn’t under my control – I get a gut feeling. I just know it, and I can’t describe it in words. It’s just the opposite of that tension I feel in my stomach when I’m nervous and filled with mind clutter. There is a feeling of spaciousness, a feeling of joy, and it stops me in my tracks. I sense a connection to greater purpose and presence, and the more I have practiced it, the more I have become attuned to it. And as a result, I have experienced greater certainty, knowing, and trust in my life.

Deepak writes that life is meant to progress. He’s right. At one point in my life, I didn’t know where I would go to college. But after doubts, questions, research, applications, visitations, waiting, and some more waiting, I did get into college, a good one actually, and I had a great time, met wonderful friends, and oh yeah, learned a whole bunch. And now I know that life does progress, questions are answered, and hopes can become certainties. At later points in my life, I didn’t know that I would be able to get my A1C below a 7, or that I would get married, or that I would find a good job, but I did and I have. And looking back, I realize that all of those times were also filled with the anxieties too during the process of getting there.

Wouldn’t it be so much easier if we just trusted the process to begin with? If we just trust that everything does resolve, answers do surface, and more often than not, situations work out for the best, wouldn’t life be so much happier, less stressful, and more vacation-like? We can use that mind energy toward other things – like being creative, exploring, learning, taking action. The point is that once we trust that life is meant to progress, then we can lead our lives with greater certainty during those challenging times that seem insurmountable. And we can apply those feelings of certainty and knowing every step along the way.

I am not saying that I have mastered trust during uncertain times, not at all. I’m learning. Just as in life, finding certainty during uncertain times is a process. What I have learned though is that I can trust the process because life progresses. And I know this for sure. I’m certain of it.

To delve deeper, click here to read Deepak Chopra’s article entitled, “Learning How to Live with Certainty in Uncertain Times” on Oprah.com. Chopra provides a certainty to-do list on page 2 which I personally enjoyed.

The ups and downs of transforming negativity into positive stuff

I am in training – ‘calming the mind’ training – and am practicing taking delight in its ups and downs.

You may remember from my last post that I am on a goal driven, applied Buddhism kick lately. I am in fact putting into practice last week’s lessons on calming the mind and transforming negative into positive, while also listening to more Buddhist teachings. Now I’m listening to teachings by Pema Chodron during my commute where she talks about how calming the mind has its ups and downs.

Pema Chodron is the first female, Western Tibetan Buddhist monk and is just really great at applying Buddhist philosophies for Western audiences. In her teachings, Pema says that there will constantly be ups and downs with everything in life. She continues to say that by being mindful and then taking delight during the ups and the downs, you can live life more fully. So in other words, when a down occurs, be present, feel whatever feeling arises, and you can take delight by being thankful that you have the wisdom to do that. This method is easier when an up occurs, but it's still important to be mindful when good things happen. Be sure to rejoice during the ups and be thankful for those uplifting moments!

So as I wrote last week after my visit to the Buddhist meditation center in Lambertville, I am trying to apply all of these teachings to real life. I am starting by training my mind to stay calm with something relatively small that I know triggers samsara, a repetitive circumstance that triggers aggravation or disharmony.

I chose all things traffic-related. Merging onto highways really stresses me out because I lost some of my peripheral vision when I was 19 years-old as a result of diabetic retinopathy. Although I do have some vision in my right eye, it is very limited and fuzzy. Although I manage, I do get nervous while driving. I am scared of killing myself or getting into a car accident or hurting someone else.

The thing is: Our minds are able to think about and do many things at the same time. Yes, I can drive AND listen to music AND sing AND think endlessly about whatever mind chatter exists at the moment AND be nervous AND scared AND trigger samsara AND merge. What I'm not doing is being present.

So on my first day of ‘calming the mind’ training, I shut off the car radio at around 8:55 am. I approached the highway entrance and turned the wheel with the course of the ramp. I inhaled and exhaled a couple of times. I turned my head to the left to see if any cars were approaching. I saw a car driving quickly and realized that I would have to merge after he passed. I assessed where the lanes begin and end. I sped up and merged after the first car and before a car that was following after him.

I’ve merged well before (or else I wouldn’t be here, right?), but this time I was fully present while doing so and only a little nervous. I was present while merging and so the nervousness didn’t have the space or the room to implode.

There are ups and down to this process though. Samsara is a repetitive circumstance that triggers aggravation, right? That night, on the way home, I was nervous and didn’t merge so smoothly. I cursed the short ramp and the heavy traffic, and then I noticed that my mind was filled with clutter. I began to inhale and exhale frantically, but by then it was too late, and I was sitting on the ramp at full stop praying for an opening. And then it came; a car moved to the middle lane providing me with space to move.

So I’m not transforming overnight; it’s a process. Amazingly enough, I listened to Pema Chodron immediately after that experience, and it put it all into perspective. The ups and the downs are totally natural and are there as a lesson - to be mindful and take delight in our wisdom.

Some days I am able to merge with calm mind and rejoice with a “YAY!” in my car. And yes, I go back to cluttered mind two seconds later. But I’m aware of it, and I am grateful that I have the wisdom to notice both. So, I shall try again tomorrow. I’m in training, after all.

Transforming negativity into positive

I went to a Buddhist meditation center on Sunday morning in Lambertville, New Jersey for a meditation and workshop on the topic of samsara and transforming negativity into positive. No matter what your religious or spiritual beliefs may be, I found the instructor’s teachings to be quite beneficial for any life situation, and so I am using this blog to share some of what I learned with you.

Diane, our meditation instructor, led us first on a calming of the mind meditation. Basically, we sat together, and as in most Buddhist meditations, we scanned the body for any tension, released that tension, and then focused on the breath. The breath is considered the basic focal point for staying present.

To be honest, I was calm for a good part of the meditation, as I’ve been practicing meditation for a number of years, but it is only natural for a person’s mind to wander. And yes, my mind did stray at times. I couldn’t help but sing “So What” by Pink over and over again in my head. Diane knows that the straying mind is true of everyone, and so she would occasionally bring us back and ask us gently to focus on our breath once again.

After Diane so wisely helped us calm our minds, she introduced the Sanskrit term, samsara, which she defined as the cyclical nature of life. Diane continued to say that samsara can also be thought of as a repetitive circumstance that aggravates us and arouses a negative reaction. She used the example of how we react when someone says or does something that totally aggravates us, and our minds spin in anger, jealousy, fear or any negative emotion. Believe it or not, the person who aggravates us isn’t the issue; a similar reaction could result if another person or event triggered the same feeling within us.

And so, Diane suggested, “Look at each challenge, each aggravation, as an opportunity rather than as a problem. This whole process is about training the mind to stay present and not attach judgments, feelings, or emotions to things in the outside world.”

I could definitely relate to what Diane was saying. We all go through cyclical patterns in our lives such as waking up in the morning, brushing our teeth, and drinking a cup of coffee. And we all go through emotional cycles as well. Meaning, how we react to certain emotional triggers. I know that I get aggravated any time someone tells me what to eat or what I should, could, shouldn’t, or cannot eat. This is samsara – a circumstance or situation that arouses a cyclical negative reaction. I typically get defensive and annoyed and then think for hours afterward about how someone else said or did something wrong in relation to me and food. But the person who said it isn’t the problem; it’s actually an opportunity to stay present and respond with a calm mind.

Then, Diane touched a nerve and said, “This doesn’t only apply to when people aggravate you. The same is true for illness or disease. The illness isn’t what’s bad. The illness is just that – an illness. It’s our reactions, feelings, thoughts around the illness that are thought of as bad. For example, pain can sometimes be considered a good thing. The Olympic athletes practicing for hours…They’re in pain; they’re pushing past pain. And in this case, the pain is considered good.”

I pondered: The diabetes is neither good nor bad. It is simply diabetes. It’s my emotions or feelings around the diabetes – my frustration with blood sugar fluctuations, getting annoyed by what I can or can’t eat, or feeling restricted by what I should or shouldn’t do to stay healthy. Those feelings are what make the disease good or bad. On the good feelings side, diabetes has allowed me to become more aware of my body and take better care of myself.

As I told you, I’ve been meditating for some time, and have been introduced to these concepts before (although it is very helpful to hear them again and again). BUT, where I have the real issue is applying all of these teachings to real life. When I’m in the midst of living, minding my own business, going with the flow, and suddenly something comes out of nowhere and just aggravates me.

In those moments, I am not thinking about samsara and the cyclical patterns of life. I am not thinking about Zen and the Art of Food Relationships. I am not able to undergo a calming of the mind meditation for ten or fifteen minutes in a quiet atmosphere before each daily event.

So I asked Diane after the workshop, “How do I apply this to real life when I’m just living life and the moment is happening?”

She said, “Start training the mind with something small, something that only mildly triggers aggravation.” Train the mind to see each moment as an opportunity to stay present and respond with a calm mind.

Diane could tell that she touched a nerve and she repeated herself, “Don’t start with the big things.” She continued, “And then, in meditation later, ask yourself, ‘Why is this event or situation causing me to become aggravated?’ Chances are that it’s always the same thing causing the aggravation.” She smiled, "And then you will find yourself enjoying life, living peacefully, with a calm mind."

And only I can know the answer to those questions as they pertain to me. We all have our own cycles, our own samsara, to learn from, to transform from the negative to the positive. And as Diane said, it’s an opportunity. So I’m grabbing it!

So what really aggravates you?

My thoughts on Oprah’s show on diabetes: Part 2

Last week’s blog entry was on Oprah’s show on diabetes. Many in the Type 1 diabetic community were angered, hurt, and/or upset by the show, including me, and I left you last week saying that I would use the show as a lesson in awakening.

“Hopefully, it will leave us all inspired.”

Just to recap: There were two main points that upset me and my fellow Type 1’s.

1) Dr. Oz presented inaccuracies regarding diabetes. First, Dr. Oz claims that Type 1 diabetes is a genetic disease, but although I am not a doctor or medical researcher, many of us in the diabetic community know that this is not necessarily the case. There are plenty of Type 1's out there who do not have any Type 1 diabetes in their family history. He also stated that Type 2 is a product of lifestyle, which again is not always the case. Lifestyle is an important component of both types of diabetes, but it may or may not be the whole cause for Type 2. There are many Type 2's out there that live a healthy lifestyle, but triggered the disease through genetics.

Dr. Oz also claimed that we Type 1 diabetics don’t make “enough” insulin, but actually, the key is that we don’t make any insulin. Then, he claimed that 90% of diabetes is reversible through lifestyle, but did not point out that this is only the case with Type 2 diabetes. Type 1 diabetes can be managed through lifestyle, but this disease is not reversible. And as Kelly Kunik states in Dear Oprah & Dr. Oz- The Diabetes Show- Major FAIL, these statements only perpetuate the stereotypes that diabetics are the makers of their own fate. Thank you, Kelly, for pointing that out!!!

2) Drama with inappropriate follow-through – the part that bothered me the most. As I wrote last week, “Dr. Oz visited a 44-year old woman in the hospital with Type 1 who had had both of her legs amputated and was undergoing kidney dialysis. It was painful to watch.”

Dr. Oz prodded the woman to share her feelings, and I believe that we were all in tears and/or fearful that it might happen to us. Yes, this is a wake-up call, and a much-needed one. “But then, after watching this woman with Type 1 diabetes crying with two legs gone, we the audience were informed that the show would actually focus on Type 2 diabetes. Why? Good news, 90% of the diabetic cases can be prevented. I felt slighted.”

What about us, the Type 1 diabetics? As Kelly Kunik also stated, why didn’t they show a Type 1 who is living a healthy, vivacious lifestyle as a result of self-care and proper management after showing the woman with amputated legs? How about Halle Barry, Nick Jonas, or the Type 1 diabetes cycling team?

And herein lies the reason for writing The Conscious Diabetic. I must use this show, this statement of fear and anxiety, for awakening.

The first step I took was to really diagnose what was bothering me about the show. Forget about the responsibilities that Oprah and Dr. Oz have as conveyers of the Live Your Best Life message. What really, really, really bothered me about the show irrelevant of what they should or should not have done?

For me, that was the case of the woman with amputated legs. They left us hanging, and didn’t make us feel better about the severity of complications involved with mistreated Type 1 diabetes.

It’s actually quite simple: Watching the woman with amputated legs undergoing dialysis reminded me of my own vulnerability, my own likelihood of winding up the same way. I don’t want to think of myself as potentially hooked up to a machine without my legs. Who does? But it is an underlying fear of diabetes. There is no way around it. That fear is there, festering quietly, and we typically choose not to discuss or think about it. By bringing it to the forefront, we can use it as an opportunity to listen to our bodies, our authentic voice, and through awareness, we can accept that the fear is there and take inspired action.

The problem is that when I saw the show, I started to think about all of the times I have eaten the wrong thing, and wound up with high sugars, then low, then high again. And I ate those things knowing very well what the consequences may be. I beat myself up for not taking care of myself, and forget to applaud the times that I have taken care of myself.

So yes, the show is a huge wake up call, and a scary wake up call. Maybe that’s not only what I needed, but maybe all of us needed it, even the non-diabetics? The mistakes that Dr. Oz and Oprah made only drew greater attention to the problem. It forced me to look at it more closely, as does this blog.

So what to do with this fear now that it’s out there in the open? There’s only one thing to do: Face it. I accept that the fear is there, and I choose to take inspired action. So, I am setting an intention here today. And I will do my best to act on it – every moment of every day.

FYI, Deepak Chopra talks about the Law of Intention in the Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. I highly recommend this book. So, with the guidance of our friend Deepak, I set my intention for managing my self-care, and you know what? My intention is to live a long, healthy, balanced, and fulfilling life.

What is one step I can take to do that? As it pertains to me, it means eating a healthy diet all of the time, not just most of the time. How can this be an inspired action? Take a breath before each bite, be thankful for the food I eat, and be present while eating.

I don’t know if I may wind up with foot ulcers and the need for amputations, and I don’t know if I’ll wind up still doing yoga and going for walks at age 85. I hope for the latter. I don’t know if I will wind up with kidney problems, but I actually reversed some kidney damage diagnosed when I was 21 through proper diet and exercise. The past is already behind all of us, and we can't change it.

So, the only thing that I can focus on is right now. And so I ask myself: Is there anything wrong at this very exact moment in time? Nope, everything is just fine. Actually, it’s great.

My thoughts on Oprah’s show on diabetes: Part 1

Despite disappointments, I have decided to use Oprah’s show on diabetes as a lesson in awakening.

Oprah Winfrey ran a special episode on diabetes last Thursday, as they called it: “America's Silent Killer”. Anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely adore Oprah and her consciousness-raising show, but lo and behold, I was disappointed by parts of Thursday’s quick fix-it summary of diabetes, along with many in the Type 1 community.

Oprah and her team of doctors, chefs, and personal trainers spent much of the show talking about Type 2 diabetes while also touching upon Type 1 as well.

Dr. Oz, Oprah’s medical guru, was invited to provide a medical description of the disease. Dr. Oz used virtual diagrams of the human body and described how the body digests sugars and the important role of insulin in this process. Of course, he also addressed what happens when the body has too much sugar in its system.

So far, no complaints, and quite frankly, the virtual diagram of how blood sugars affect the body – the scars that affect the heart, the eyes, the kidneys, and circulation from too much sugar - is much more moving and enlightening than the textbooks and pictures we were shown of diabetes in the 1970s, 80s, and even the 90s.

Then, it was time for Oprah and Dr. Oz to really shock the audience and hit home the importance of self-care. Dr. Oz went to visit a 44-year old woman in the hospital with Type 1 who had had both of her legs amputated and was undergoing kidney dialysis. It was painful to watch. I’ve known all my life about diabetic complications. It’s another to watch it on TV. And Dr. Oz asked difficult questions like: When did it hit you? She described what it felt like to lose both legs and began to weep. Who could blame her?

So far, yes, a gripping show, and a huge wake-up call also for someone like me who makes huge efforts to take care of myself.

But then, after watching this woman with Type 1 diabetes crying with two legs gone, we the audience were informed that the show would actually focus on Type 2 diabetes. Why? Good news, 90% of the diabetic cases can be prevented. I felt slighted.

Oprah explained: Type 2 diabetes accounts for 90% of the diabetes population and oftentimes can be reversed with proper diet and exercise. They called it “the silent killer” because many people don’t realize that by mistreating diabetes, they are slowly and silently leading themselves to horrible complications and perhaps even premature death.

I do understand that Oprah and her producers felt it necessary to raise awareness because of the sheer numbers of those with Type 2 diabetes. And quite frankly, a show on Type 2 diabetes was long overdue.

Dr. Oz did say that there are treatments for Type 1 diabetics after defining the differences between Type 1 and Type 2 incorrectly, and not mentioning what the treatments are. But the rest of the show focused on Type 2. The un-reversible were left in the dust.

Bob Greene and Celebrity Fit Club’s Dr. Ian Smith went out to the community, talked about exercise and food with church groups, and then Art Smith, Oprah’s former chef, came out on stage after being diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes to show the crowd that he had lost 85 pounds. Wow!

I agree. We should all eat healthy. So why am I upset?

I felt ignored when it mattered most. Why did they show a Type 1 woman with amputated legs on a dialysis machine and then not address it? Why did they suddenly switch to Type 2? I did not expect them to start talking about the different kinds of insulin pumps, but then why freak us out with Type 1 information we already know if you aren’t going to discuss?

This isn’t new. Type 1 diabetics are often left out of the BIG diabetes discussion. Since we ‘only’ account for 10% of the diabetes population, we do not receive as much awareness, education, or funding for Type 1 research. It must feel good to be able to reverse 90% of the diabetes population, but what about the rest of us? And in this case, we didn’t even receive Oprah’s full attention.

I’ve gone through many thoughts on this episode. But as I sit and write this blog, I have come to realize that I can use this situation, the diabetes show and tell, for awakening. That's all I can do. Isn’t that how Oprah would have wanted it?

After four days of pondering, I’ve come up with some theories, but this will take more work. I’ll let you know what I come up with. Hopefully, it will leave us all inspired.

Welcome to my treasure hunt

Where would I be, what would I be doing, if I wasn’t afraid?

Welcome to my treasure hunt. I have been on a treasure hunt for at least ten or fifteen years now, seeking my life’s treasures, whatever they may be or wherever they may fall. A path, or a journey, that will bring me great rewards. I’m not exactly looking for jewels, precious stones, or mountains made of gold.

I’m seeking to live my life’s passions, but sometimes fear stumbles in along my way. It wasn't always like that.

As a diabetic, I’ve always wanted to feel safe. Not eating the right foods, or taking the right amount of insulin, or exercising at the wrong time of day, or a million other things can cause my blood sugars to go very high or very low. Those low sugars can feel really nasty, and consistent high sugars cause a diabetic to develop some very severe complications over time, like blindness.

When I was young and didn't know any better, I tempted the consequences and ate sugary foods while not keeping track of my blood sugars. When I was 19 years old, I was diagnosed with diabetic retinopathy, and as I told you in the earlier post, In the beginning, I had a 50-50 chance of going blind. I lost some vision, but I'm alright.

I blamed myself though, and I became cautious. Very cautious. Too cautious and afraid of what may or may not be if I didn’t follow the rules and play it safe. I was so miserable. Not miserable for striving to be healthy, but rather miserable for living life out of fear.

But life hands us new experiences every day, and every time I stepped out and tried something new, and followed a passion, I became more and more aware. First, I became aware of my misery. Then, I traveled alone to Paris. I moved to New York City. I tried eating new foods, dancing different dances, or learning new languages. And each time, the experience became more enjoyable, more exhilarating, and even more inspiring. I found myself transforming.

One of the most profound times I really pushed myself outside of my safe, comfort zone was when I went on a sort of adventure-travel tour of Australia. We were provided with lots of options during the tour: White water rafting, hot air balloon riding, and sky diving. I slept on a sailboat for 3 days. Sounds cool, huh? Yeah, I totally freaked out every morning, completely afraid of what adventure options they would throw at us next, and each day, I grappled.

I was scared to death – the heights, the deep waters, the crummy bathrooms, the animals. You name it. I was scared of it. What might happen?

We went to the Great Barrier Reef at the very end of the trip. Hello, diving. The tour operator asked for a show of hands: Who wanted to go deep sea diving? I thought it would be a pretty cool experience, but I was so totally scared at the same time. I didn’t have much time to decide. I sat there grappling, time was ticking. I had to give an answer. Do I go? Don’t I go? What do I do?

Then, the instructor informed us that diabetics weren’t allowed to go deep sea diving. You see, there’s no way to treat low blood sugar underwater.

I actually smiled at first. What a relief! I had an excuse to stay in my comfort zone. No scary adventure travel for me! But then I sat for a few minutes, and it hit: I was angry. Not because I wasn’t going, I was annoyed because even if I wanted to go, I couldn’t.

And that’s when I rebelled. I didn’t care how much it cost, or if I went alone, I was going to do every other adventure option possible at the Great Barrier Reef. And I did: I flew in a helicopter, rode in a submarine, and snorkeled too. I wasn’t going to be deprived of my Great Barrier Reef experience just because I am diabetic. I didn't know it at the time, but I had discovered a passion along my treasure hunt.

I stepped out of my safe, comfort zone and decided to live once again, transforming once again. I forgot about what may or may not happen because I was too busy focusing on having the best time ever. That helicopter ride was phenomenal!

What I didn’t realize at the time, and maybe am only realizing now, is that by telling me that I can’t do something, I actually pushed past my fear of what may or may not be. I can’t control the outcome. I can’t hide myself away in the closet of life, going about the same old thing day after day. Because then I am not truly living.

I have learned to let fear be my guide for what is most appropriate for me. Fear helps us stay balanced - It’s not like I ignored the sound advice of my doctors or the tour operator. I didn’t go deep sea diving despite the tour operator’s instructions. I still check my sugars, eat a healthy diet, and exercise.

But although I didn’t realize it then, I did let fear be my guide for what I truly want – an experience. After all, there was really only one possible outcome that I was truly afraid of – drowning to my death unable to control my breath while sharks hover around me, possibly tearing me apart limb by limb. It wasn’t the actual diving I was afraid of – wearing a wet suit, learning how to breathe wearing an oxygen tank, paying attention to the signs for up and down, and watching amazing sea creatures float by.

And you know what, although I didn’t go diving, it turned out more than alright up there in the sky looking at the most breathtaking view you can imagine.

No, I don’t go to Australia every day and go riding in helicopters. That's totally not the point of this entry. My goal is to share with you the mantra - live life to the fullest, every single moment of every single day. Don't let the uncertainty of possible outcomes hold you back. None of us know what will be. How do you find your journey? One way is to become aware of your fears, jealousies, and anger. They will guide you along the way to what you really want. Ask yourself: What would you be doing if you weren’t afraid of the outcome?

I’m still seeking my treasure every single day, seeking to live my life’s passions at every moment of every single day. The realization is: Living one’s passions isn’t an end goal or an outcome. The treasure isn't found on some mountaintop. It's found along the way, on the journey.

In the beginning...

I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes in 1974 at the age of three. Okay, yeah, living with diabetes is tough. You may already realize that. But this blog isn’t meant to focus on being a victim or how hard or challenging this diabetic life has been.

This blog is about taking those challenges and using them for everything they’re worth – figuring out how to live the most fulfilling and satisfying life possible. A diabetic life is a quest, a journey, filled with questions and realizations. Yes, we're all faced with challenges, and you may find that some of those diabetic challenges, questions, and realizations apply to you too.

The first really big question I remember asking myself is: Why me? I was actually advised not to ask myself that question when I was diagnosed with diabetic retinopathy when I turned 19 years old. Let me just be blunt: This meant that I had a 50-50 chance of going blind. When sitting on my bed feeling really pathetic and crying endlessly, I was advised not to wallow in self-pity. You see ‘Why me?’ can be considered a wallowing in self-pity kind of question. But it kind of depends on the tone in which you are asking.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was not all enlightened at the age of 19. Oh no, it took 20 years to reach a place of relative peace living with this disease. At the time (and for many years after), I totally beat myself up for drinking alcohol at late night parties, but more so, I beat myself up for eating all of those cookies, candy bars, and tubs of whipped cream. All of those filled with unhealthy ingredients. I would sneak bites of cake when no one was watching, and stop at convenience stores and down Rollos before anyone came looking for me. What a rebel!

But seriously, after the you-may-be-going-blind diagnosis, I strongly felt that the answer to ‘Why me?’ was that I was a bad diabetic. I didn't take care of myself. That sure is a lot for a person to take on at such a young age! So, I ate a Snickers bar and a tub of Cool Whip, does that mean that I’m meant for a lifetime of blindness? That didn’t feel so good.

So I got angry: I didn’t choose to have diabetes! I didn’t bring this on myself! I didn’t know that if I ate all that sugar that I might go blind!

And so I did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed. I asked that I not go blind. I made a deal. I asked that if I continue seeing, that I, in return, would do what I can to make the world a better place, be a more giving and peaceful person. My prayers were heard, or perhaps science is just that fantastic, or both. Either way, it worked, and I received an answer.

Why me? Because it woke me up. I began to live consciously. I began to learn how to thrive with diabetes. And I can see.